Catching Feelings
by jemmasimmonsdefensesquad
Summary: Carmilla A hollstein childhood sweethearts au with an angsty sad cursed with bad luck carmilla and overjealous laura hollis who just wants the world for her best friend
1. 5th Grade

**I literally spent like four days hating myself for writing this instead of my essays for school that still aren't done but oh well I present to you a little over 5k words of a Hollstein childhood au**** based on a prompt I saw on tumblr t****hat I may or may not be continuing depending on the response**

**This is Part 1: 5th Grade out of I don't even know how many years but each part is going to be a different year of their life and I think I may just do a part for each year leading into adulthood or something idk ** **(and you can totally find me on**** my tumblr (that-fangirling-teenager)_)_**

You're sitting on a bench when she approaches you and you think that she doesn't know that you've seen her in the years leading but you have. She's wearing faded overalls and stripes underneath with her hair in two french braids trailing down her skull and you think to yourself that for an outfit so simple she looks very nice. You used to watch her at recess and from your desk you could see hers through the windows in the doors across the hall and that had been going on until she finally got put into the challenge class with you during your fifth grade year. Her name is Laura and she is the tiniest one in your grade. She is missing a top tooth which makes you giggle because it makes her smile seem lopsided. You talked to her once in the classroom when she asked you how her picture looked and once more in the cafeteria when she suggested that you get yogurt that comes with a granola bar instead of buying one for extra and not eating whatever meal you get, but that was it and you hadn't said another word to her until today when she sat beside you while you were reading Matilda and piped out a hello.

"Hello," you say awkwardly because you'd never really been good with friends or classmates. You don't do well with others and you dread group assignments, though having to make a poster on the Mayans with Laura doesn't seem that terrible at that second.

"Do you love me?" She speaks her words without hesitation, something making her eyes seem lighter as your face scrunches in confusion._ Love?_ you ask yourself,_ Do I love her?_ You want to think no, and you know it is no, but a tiny part of you wants to say yes because she has freckles that you can count and you had never really wanted a new friend before seeing her and now you do.

"No. I hardly know you." You decide to answer truthfully before you go back to your book._ Honesty is the best policy_, you think before you grimace at the rhyme spoken by your school librarian when you see him once a week. "Well…" Laura speaks again, shuffling for a second before she pulls a crisp ten dollar bill from her pocket. She makes a scene out of unfolding it and you try to hold back a smile but the only way to describe it is dorky and cute and that only makes you want to grin more. She sets it down in the tiny gap between you and slides it over, a smirk on her lips as she crushes it into the side of your dress. "Do you love me now?"

You pick up the money and you laugh a little, turning back to her. "For only ten dollars? Not even close," you tease and she laughs and you can't help but think that her laugh sounds like angels. She rolls her eyes and she completely turns her body before she talks again. "I think that ten dollars is more than enough," she starts, "but if you're really that pricey I have a Snickers in my lunchbox with your name written all over it." You tell her it's tempting and she says that after recess she'll get it for you and you guys can split it during reading groups. You agree before she turns again and swings her legs.

"My older cousin told me that this is...well...'how you get the ladies'," she explains, lowering her voice while her fingers hung in the air to represent quotes. "I told him I needed help because there was this girl in my class I wanted to talk to and it was you, obviously, and so he told me that this always works on his lady friends and all the lady friends of Zeta Omega Mu and if I wanted a lady friend that I should use this method and I do want a lady friend- You- So if you'd want to be my lady friend that'd be super cool and really you should because he said that it always works."

She's rambling and you're laughing because she's talking so much she's almost out of breath and you'd really like to be her lady friend, whatever that means, so you tell her that and suddenly her face is red and she looks like all the air dragged out of her while she was rambling was just pumped back into her lungs.

"Laura Hollis!" she squeaks before shoving her hand towards you.

You chuckle again and shake it. "Carmilla Karnstein."

* * *

><p>You are friends with Carmilla for five weeks and four days exactly when you decide that enough time has passed to invite her for a sleepover. You're nervous because the last time you had a sleepover it was with Susan and she had confessed to you that she didn't really like her name so when she went home afterwards and told her mother that you had helped her think of something else to be called your parents got a phone call explaining that Susan was no longer allowed to play at your house. Thankfully Carmilla agrees and she texts her mother on her phone that she has because you find out that her mother is gone for work a lot and she has to have some way to get in touch and tells you that she can come over on Friday after school and stay through Saturday evening.<p>

When you tell your parents your dad tells you that you guys can set up a blanket for in your room and your mother makes him promise to help clean it up before telling you to ask Carmilla what she likes to eat so she can make something good for dinner. You call Carmilla right away and she tells you that she likes mac and cheese and you smile because you like mac and cheese, too, and your mom makes the best mac and cheese.

Friday comes quickly which isn't really a shock because it was only a two day wait but still, it was like you blinked and suddenly you see Carmilla walking towards your classroom with two backpacks instead of one. "Morning, Carm!" you greet. You started calling her Carm the week before and she has yet to tell her not to so you're trying to fit it in as much as possible.

"Good morning, sunshine," she teases sarcastically. Your cheeks burn and you're not entirely sure why but you choose to ignore it and grab her extra backpack.

"My dad says that he and my mom will pick us up today because he wants to make sure you're comfortable with both of them and they both spend close to an equal amount of time with you. It's weird but I've learned to just kind of agree with it."

"Um, alright." She's wearing a dress again and it's shorter than the one she wore two days prior and it is a dark blue that makes her skin seem very light. She told you weeks ago that she almost always wears dresses and skirts because her mother thinks that one's appearance is vital and her children will be dressed properly if it was the only thing she could control. You're not complaining because Carmilla always looks so nice and you find yourself appreciating that a lot. You appreciate her dresses and her brown eyes and the way her hair is always in soft curls that she lets you play with. You often think to yourself how lucky you are that the prettiest girl in your entire school is best friends with a dork like you.

"Who's picking up Will today?" you ask as she leads you towards her assigned coat hook. She talks about her younger brother a lot, seeing as she's constantly alone with him. "Is your mom going to be home this weekend?" You know her mom normally works weekends especially and you wonder if she's missing out on family time for your sleepover. You hope she isn't.

"My mother hired a nanny for the weekend. She watches Will if I'm sick or if I have a lesson or anything really." You let out a sigh of relief as she gathers her supplies for the school day. "I just need to walk to his classroom door when the bell rings and walk him to the office to meet her before we leave."

"Alright, sounds good." You grin right as your teacher begins to announce that it's time to take your seats.

You spend the day watching Carmilla as she works. You don't usually do that, but you find that you're especially excited and you absolutely can't wait for Carmilla to get to your house and meet your mom and your dad and see your room and help you feed your fish. You waste the entire morning just imagining all the things you guys will do and before you know it it's lunch and she's walking towards you. You eat together and you play four square at recess and after recess you spend reading group and gym arguing about your personal preferences of chocolate and vanilla pudding.

When the bell rings you barely get your backpack on before Carmilla is out the door with both of hers and she's rushing to make it to the first grade classrooms on the other side of the school. You chase her and finally catch up turning the corner. "Hey! Carm! Wait!" You reach her side and your arms are soon locked before you notice that she's stopped and is waiting for her brother's class to let out. "Sorry," she says with an apologetic smile. "I need to get here before he does or he starts to kind of freak out. He gets worried."

You immediately accept her apology and you realize that Carmilla is a very sweet sister. Will is lucky to have her.

His class is the last one out and his teacher is a plump red headed lady that you remember seeing when you were a first grader yourself. She taught across the hall from you and her classroom had tadpoles in it and one time your teacher chose you to go help feed them because you were especially curious. You fed them and you remember that Susan was in that class and so was Lola and you sat with them for your snack that day.

You're lost in your memory until you hear a tiny voice call out, "'Milla! You'll never guess what Mrs. Phelps let me do today!"

William is adorable and he reminds you of Thumper from Bambi because of the way he's speeding to hug Carmilla and bouncing around as he speaks. He is missing several teeth and he really likes to sing punk bands that Carmilla likes to listen to and he is wearing a bowtie which is about as adorable as it sounds.

"You got me," she admits, "What did you do?" Your eyes glance but you're suddenly not staring at your classmate; you're staring at someone much older. You look and you see a very responsible young woman talking animatedly to her younger brother as she takes his backpack and glances through his things. She's asking about his day and you'd never really seen Carmilla and Will together until now. You'd never seen Carmilla act so grown up, either. She's frowning at the half eaten bag of sliced apples and telling him that he needs to finish his snack. You hope he's not sick because your dad gets that look on his face when your mom doesn't eat all of her food sometimes because she needs to eat with her medicine or her stomach gets upset.

You walk quietly beside the pair as you guys approach the main office and Carmilla hands off Will's backpack to a tall lady in a bright green sweater. "He only ate some of his snack, so make sure he eats something when you get home before his homework." You wonder if Carm is trying to sound grown up or if it's just coming to her. Your mother told you once of some children that can't be children as long as they need to be because of their circumstances. Carmilla deserves to be a child as long as possible so your heart begs that it isn't that case with her. She's now telling the babysitter where his snacks are and it's kind of evident that she doesn't leave him with her a lot. You start to feel a little bad but before you can suggest that she stays with him, she's kissing his forehead and she tells him that she loves him and she'll talk to him before he goes to sleep.

"You and Will seem really close," you tell her as you lead her towards your mom's car. You've again taken up the responsibility of her extra backpack and it causes awkward shifts to balance two bags instead of one. She made it seem so easy.

"Yeah," she says with a shrug, "I help with him a lot because my mom works, so it's just kind of how it is. I wouldn't change it. He's not so bad once you're used to him."

When you approach your ride, your dad is already out and grabbing bags before scooping you up in a hug. You giggle and push him off. "Hi, daddy! This is Carmilla."

"I gathered that from how much you talk about her," he says, reaching out his hand to shake hers. She shakes it politely and you don't remember seeing Carmilla this formal ever and it's a little weird. Your cheeks are still kind of burning from your dad revealing that you talk about her so you rush into the back seat of the car and partially climb through the middle of the front seats to kiss your mom's cheek. Carmilla slides in next to you and buckles.

"Mom! This is my best friend Carmilla that I most certainly do not talk about because that'd be embarrassing," you say loudly to make sure that she hears. She laughs a little and thankfully nods.

"Of course. Hello, Carmilla, it is very nice to meet you. You have quite the name."

Carmilla gives off her first real smile and you can tell that she already likes your mom. "Thank you. It's Hebrew. My family is Jewish." You never knew that. It wasn't that you weren't open to all holidays, you just sometimes had a really bad habit of assuming everyone celebrated Christmas. You quietly listen as Carmilla starts to easily talk to your parents and you find out crazy things you never knew about her like she's never had gingerbread and her and Will make their own dreidels every year and have rainbow candles on their menorah and she promises to bring around latkes that she makes with her grandparents each year that you can't wait to try because you've never heard of those before.

"I'm actually part Jewish," your mom admits and you never knew this either and you find this car ride just full of surprises. She talks about the food her parents used to make and you wish you had the chance to try it but your grandparents on her side both died when you were only a few weeks old. You decide that must be why you guys only really celebrate Christmas.

* * *

><p>Laura's house is much smaller than your own but you still find that you admire how warm it feels inside. There are pictures all over of smiling faces and birthday parties and you think you even see a few in front of the town firehouse. Her parents are lovely and you find that her mother is very, very beautiful and shares many features with Laura and you like them both very much. Her mother is sweet and her father is funny and now you guys are sitting and eating macaroni that is perfect. You soon decide that everything here resembles your meal because it is all perfect and it is all love and it makes you wish that you had two parents who were home every night for dinner and you had a small house with pictures all over the walls and you had a mother who made perfect mac and cheese instead of your frozen meals and empty halls and echoing rooms decorated by people hired by your mother only because your father wasn't around anymore.<p>

Laura's mother notices you're frowning and she gets up and takes your empty bowl and she rubs your shoulder quickly. It makes you smile and she asks you about dessert to which you respond that you'd like.

"Do you know the rule for spelling desert and dessert?" Laura's father asks. You think for a second while your eyebrows bunch together.

"Desert has only one 's' while dessert has two?" you question. He shakes his head. You never learned a rule. Your mother always just told you to memorize.

"That is right, but there's a rule. Dessert has two 's's while desert only has one because you always want two desserts." He smiles really wide and you can't help but do the same as a piece of chocolate pie is being set in front of you.

"That's the rule that helped me get on the challenge spelling list last year!" Laura beams and you smile because she's very proud and you can tell by her dad's face that he is, too, and it's very adorable.

"What's your favorite dessert, Carmilla? I know mine is my beautiful wife's french silk pie." Laura's father smiles sweetly and her mother blushes. _That must be love_, you think to yourself as you watch her swat at him playfully.

"I really like kolaczkis. My bubbe lets me help her make them around the holidays."

"I love kolaczkis!" Her father is smiling more. "We have this nice woman who always brings them around the... wait, are you Julia's granddaughter?"

Your face lights up because he knows your bubbe. "Yeah... Oh, you must be a fireman then!" All the firehouse pictures make sense now and you smile even more because he likes the cookies you help her make before she brings them there.

"I am. You must be that granddaughter she always brags about. She's a very lovely woman."

You nod because she is before taking a bite of your dessert.

Dinner with Carmilla is great. She's laughing with your dad and now you've all finished dessert and you're dragging her to the pillow fort in your room.

"I made this with my dad last night." You're a little worried because since making it you've sort of realized that Carmilla acts older than you do and so she might find this lame. "I know it's not really like... cool or whatever. It was his idea. He wanted to make it." You don't want to blame your dad but you do and the guilt makes you purse your lips. To your surprise, she's smiling still.

"I think it's cool. I'm not that good at making forts." You're confused again because thirty seconds ago you saw mature Carmilla texting on her own cell phone but now you see a girl with eyes bigger than the entire universe while she's staring at your blanket fort with what only can be wonder and you beam with pride as she admits her weakness.  
>"Maybe one day I'll teach you!" You probably sounds too excited but you don't really care. You can bet that Carmilla has already figured out that you built the fort willingly and with your construction worker hat on.<br>She nods eagerly and replies, "I'd like that," before she climbs in and sprawls herself out on the blankets. You begin to climb in, but you pause for a second and the corners of your mouth tug up because this is the first time you've really ever seen Carmilla just laying back relaxed and, as previously noted, you've been friends for five weeks and six days and you even called her your best friend and she didn't disagree. You wonder why she doesn't have a different best friend because so far she's been really cool to be around and she doesn't make fun of you like some of the other kids do and she is even left home alone sometimes. You wonder enough to ask her about it.

"I'm glad you're my best friend, Carm... Why don't you have any other best friends?" You've told her about Susan and Lola but they are each other's best friend and not really yours, but she hasn't really mentioned anyone. You watch her body tense and you're suddenly scared you asked the wrong thing.

"I used to have a best friend."

"Oh." You can tell she doesn't really want to talk about it so you decide to just lay next to her and you grab herr hand because that's what your mom does when you don't really want to talk about things. "Well, now we're best friends and that's cool."

"Yeah," she says, her blank face forming a tiny smirk while she turns to you, "That's cool." You decide not to push it and you tell her about how you got the lights to hang perfectly under the blankets.

You find out really late why she doesn't have a best friend anymore and the reason makes your chest tighten up.

"She died." You guys hadn't really spoken in a while and you were just kind of staring at the Christmas lights hung up around your fort when she says it. Her voice scares you because you thought she was asleep but apparently not.

"Who?" You ask but you kind of assume that you know who.

"My old best friend. Her name was Ell. She was very ill."

"You use a lot of big words for things." You blurt out your thought without noticing. You see that 'ill' isn't really a bigger word than 'sick' but still it's not what you normally hear.

"My mother says that without an extensive vocabulary it's hard to be taken seriously. That's why she gets me the books that she does." Suddenly it makes sense why you sometimes see Carmilla with really thick books at recess instead of playing with everyone else and why when your class does reading group projects she is sitting with the teacher instead of with her group learning vocabulary.

"Oh... What do you mean? That she was... um... ill?" The word feels odd on your tongue and you decide that it's not for you.

"She had alveolar rhabdomyosarcoma. It's a type of cancer that was in her arms and her legs and her chest. It's typically found in older children and teens." She sounds like a textbook and you can tell that she spent time researching this disease and that makes you sad because from what you can tell, she was trying to find help and she couldn't. "Her skin grew very pale and I helped her go shopping for lots of hats but we were both too young and before we knew it she was gone and so I used to have a best friend and I don't anymore."

You frown and reach for her hand, squeezing it once you find it and turning at her to see her eyes staring at the lights sadly.

"She died last year. She lived in my old neighborhood. We used to live a few cities over with my father. He's dead, too. He killed himself, though. I think that's why my mother works a lot."

You don't have any words to say. You feel like crying and you want to hug her but you also just want to let her talk because from her tone she hasn't told anyone this and this is a lot for anyone to handle, let alone a fifth grader in your small town with a little brother who she helps take care of and a single mother who is gone a lot. You can tell that this is one of those cases your mother told you about and it makes you want to cry more.

"Her mother and my mother were very close. After we moved, we still spent a lot of time over there. I went to her house constantly. My father died when I was really young. Will could barely even talk when he did. We moved here after, but we still went back to see them. She sometimes comes to see me and Will still; her mother does. She comes to our birthdays and sometimes holidays, but you can still tell that she's sad. We're all sad. I missed six days of school when she died. Her mother had my mother bring me to a grief counselor for a few weeks after, too, but work got in the way so I only saw them like four or five times before we just started pretending that it didn't happen and I had to start focusing on school again."

You tighten your grip on her hand and you feel special that she's sharing this with you. You can tell that she doesn't share a lot because in the time of you two being friends she's practically learned everything about you and you just recently found out that she's Jewish, but she just confided a deep secret and you can't help but feel like you've definitely found your best friend.

"You're very strong." Your words come out in a whisper and for the first time since she'd started talking she turns to look at you.

"Thank you." You don't exactly know why she's thanking you because you didn't really do anything but that's okay because she's smiling a tiny bit now so you let out a quiet, "You're welcome," before you find that you're both falling asleep.

* * *

><p>Your mother told you shortly after she stopped taking you to the grief counselor that telling people that your best friend died and you were upset about it would draw nothing but pity from them and you did not want pity. She told you that you didn't need a counselor because she refused to pay money to take you to be looked at as a charity case when you would get that flaunting your depression at school for free. She also told you that if you told your teachers that they'd probably try to make things easier for you in class. You promised her you wouldn't tell them because she would be disappointed in you if you didn't earn your grades. She told you that you should keep your emotions in line and in check and you promised her you would, but you told Laura that Ell died almost a week ago and she held your hand and called you strong and you wondered why you would avoid that feeling of comfort.<p>

What made it better was that Laura was treating you absolutely no different than she had before you stupidly spilled your heart in the middle of the night of your very first sleepover within your new friendship- no,_ best_ friendship. She still sees you in the morning and squeaks a good morning and she still brings you a Snickers in her lunchbox and she still hums you little songs while you read at recess if you don't want to play anything. She calls you after school to talk about anything and her parents even let you bring Will over sometimes and he plays with Laura's dad so that you and Laura can spend time together and he isn't left with the nanny that he doesn't like.

"Are we going over to Laura's today before Mommy gets home, 'Milla?"

You smile at the mention of your best friend before shaking your head. "No, sorry, bub. We're going to go home and finish your homework and then we're going to make spaghetti for dinner and Laura's mom even showed me how to make that peach cobbler that you loved so much." You grab his hand as you walk after putting his backpack on to the side of your own.

"We're having peach clobbler?!" His entire face lights up and his missing teeth remind you of Laura's missing tooth and you find that a lot of things remind you of your best friend nowadays.

"Cobbler and yes, we are." You approach your house before you hand him your key and let him run ahead. It's not far from the school and if you follow a little path you found your third grade year you can make it home running in four minutes exactly. (You timed it on your phone because you had nothing better to do.)

Once you're inside you immediately take your key back and fasten it to its spot on your key chain before you close and lock the door once more. Will rushes to the table and you can tell that he's excited. Your mother hasn't been home in two weeks and he misses her, though it's not the longest she's been gone. You take out his homework from his backpack and you set it in front of him before you go and slice an apple for his snack and sit beside him.

You can't help your grin as you notice his challenge words for spelling that week. "Did you know that there's a rule to spelling desert and dessert?"

* * *

><p>Carmilla calls you that night at 9:43 and you can tell that she's trying not to cry when she does. Her mother was supposed to come home and you could tell that she was excited by the way she apologized for not being able to talk after school because she had to get everything prepared. She was practically bouncing and she wanted to play and she wanted to laugh and the days her mother is expected home are the days that you see Carmilla act like the eleven year old she's supposed to be.<p>

"She wont be home until Monday," she says quietly. That's three days from today and you feel angry that she sounds so sad. "I don't know why I didn't expect it, I mean, it's not like she doesn't do this almost every time." It's true and you know because this is not your first phone call regarding her absence of homecoming. You almost want to chuckle because 'absence of homecoming' is a phrase Carmilla would use and she must be rubbing off on you.

"I'm sorry, Carm," you give weakly. You don't have much more to say and you feel like you're no help, but she still says that it's okay and it makes you have a sad smile.

"I just feel bad for Will. He was so excited today. After we did his homework, he helped me clean the entire house and mop, we rearranged all of his projects and papers on the fridge in the order he wanted to show her, he helped me make dinner and dessert and he refused to eat without her until eight hit and he realized that she wasn't coming back tonight. Laura, he ate cold spaghetti for dinner and only half of his bowl of peach cobbler and he barely even wanted his story when I tucked him in." She doesn't normally call you by your name, so when she does your heart sinks to the bottom of your chest because she's more serious than usual and it's typically not good.

Your mind wanders to Will and you frown even more because he's only six and while Carmilla understands her mother being away, he doesn't. "Maybe you can bring him over here tomorrow? My mom will come pick you up and we can make a big fort in the basement and we can eat your leftover spaghetti and cobbler- heated, of course- and we'll even have a movie night!"

You hear her break into a smile. "Yeah, that sounds great. He'll love it." She shuffles a bit before she lets out a tiny sigh. "Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Definitely! Now go lay by Will. You know you're dying to." She always sleeps by him on these nights. (And most nights which she refuses to admit to anyone but you.)

"Alright, whatever. Trying to get rid of me and stuff. Doesn't hurt at all." Carmilla fakes a sniffle and you let out a snort.

"You're a dork."

"Says the nerd."

"I'm not the one with my nose always in a book."

"Whatever, Hollis, you collect Star Wars spoons."

"You promised you wouldn't...Go to sleep, Carmilla."

Finally, she lacks a comeback and you can tell she's walking towards her brother's room. You find yourself content with being able to help with her disappointment even a little because she doesn't deserve it and neither does Will. "Hey, Carm?"

"What is it, sunshine?" Carmilla yawns and it's an adorable squeaky yawn that reminds you of a kitten.

"I'm glad you're my best friend." You tell her this a lot but it's only because you need to make sure she definitely knows because you really are, more than anything else in your life, glad for Carmilla. You can hear the grin on her lips when she responds,"I'm glad, too."


	2. 6th Grade

**Oh sixth grade, also the time where Laura went through that phase with her new phone that most desperately seek to escape**

* * *

><p>Laura is quite possibly the most frustrating person to text that you've ever known in your entire existence on Earth. In the time since her finally getting a cellphone from her parents until the second you're in, you have read the word "what" spelled "wut" at least forty times. The same applies for "you" becoming "yhu" and the awful use of 'q's for 'g's and you love Laura, you really do, and she's your best friend but if she texts you that she's "qoinq 2 b late 4 slpover" one more time you're going to cancel it all together.<p>

You don't understand it. You are both twelve, though she is on the younger side, and you both are soon to be teenagers, which means that you two should be able to use simple grammar. You were both placed in the same double honors English class and you watched her get back her flawless grammar quiz like last week and it's so…infuriating.

As if you signaled it, your phone buzzes with another notification telling you that she sent another message. Again. With the same spelling errors.

**_Laura Grace Hollis if you do not text me using proper English I am never going to text you again._**

You groan as you see her response pop up.

_qosh carm! chill out! XDDDDDDD_

**_LAURA. I WILL DELETE YOUR NUMBER. _**

_Yhu wont cuz yhu luv meh_

**_I will break your Veronica Mars box set._**

_Okay, okay, I'm sorry._

You let out a short breath at actual words that are in the dictionary, though you remind yourself how hard Laura can be on herself and how she would probably infer this as you being annoyed with her as a whole and not this specific action. Being her best friend for the year leading had trained your mind to be cautious around Laura's places of insecurity, reassuring her that she is not as poorly standing as she imagines. You really hope that she will see herself like you see her one day.

_**…I'm sorry, too. It's just frustrating. It's like having to translate languages with your texts and I'm probably overreacting.**_

The stubborn part of your mind tells you that you are not overreacting, but you know you are. Sixth graders or not, being anal about grammar used while texting probably isn't something to break a prized possession over.

_No! It's alright. I prefer talking on the phone with you and your gorgeous voice._

You smile and your face burns as you read her message. She compliments you a lot and each time your reaction remains the same; blushing cheeks, stupid grin, flipping stomach. These symptoms go no where as a picture of Laura wearing a onesie while tiredly dozing off into her bowl of cereal lights up your screen. The pajamas she is wearing have the patterns of a cow all over them and the name 'Bull Dozer' flashes above the photo which makes you chuckle, even three months after you made the joke about her falling asleep into her bowl of Frosted Flakes.

"Why hello there, Sleeping Beauty."

She chuckles under her breath before she responds to you. "Oh shut up. I can hear the smile in your voice about your stupid joke."

"It's a good joke."

"It's a stupid joke." She's smiling and she's rolling her eyes. You can't see it but you know; you can just tell.

"You're a stupid joke."

She now full on laughs and you think that she has one of the most lovely laughs you've ever heard. "Carmilla, you are such a dork. You're a loser."

"And you're my best friend so what does that say about you?"

"It says that I'm a kind and sweet girl who befriended the lamest girl in school." You smile because she's joking and you begin to walk to unlock your front door. "I'm on my way."

"Alright, let me just lock all of my doors and turn the lights out."

* * *

><p>Your mother told you today that she is sick and you knew, you have since you were younger, but she told you today with tears in her eyes that she is sick and it is getting worse.<p>

"I know that it's not easy to understand, Laura, but I'm trying my best so that this can be…easier on us."

Your stomach turns but there's no reason for it to. You guys have talks like this every couple months. She's just getting her medicine upped or changed.

"I know, mom. Communication keeps us strong, right?" She tells you this every time this happens.

She breaks into a smile but it looks weak and tired. She must really need the change "Yes, Laura, which is why I need you to listen, sweetheart."

"I know, mom. Are they upping your medicine again?" She looks at you like she's broken. You've known your mother to be sick your entire life so it's not like this is anything new. You know it's not. It can't be.

"No, sweetheart. They're… They're taking me off of my medicine." You break into a laugh because this must be a joke.

"That's silly, mom." You laugh again before you kiss her cheek,"I have to go unlock the door, though, because Carm is going to be here soon. You better call that doctor and tell him that your medicine probably just needs to be upped again."

"Laura, we need to—"

The doorbell rings and you hop up, placing another kiss on her cheek. "Don't forget to call the doctor!"

You run down the hall chuckling again because they wouldn't take your mom off her medicine. Without her medicine your mom would die and that would mean they gave up on her, which they wouldn't. You know that they wouldn't. Of course they wouldn't. She's probably calling her doctor right now and telling him what a silly mistake he made and he's laughing and apologizing and writing her prescription right now and faxing it to the pharmacy.

"Hey, you alright, sunshine?" Carmilla's voice drags you from your thoughts before you realize that you're standing still in front of your open door.

"Oh, yeah! Totally!" You try to give a smile but you don't and she notices. "Kind of." You feel a frown pulling your lips but you don't know why because none of this is different.

Your mom will be fine like she always is and she needs to the call the doctor. Doctors make mistakes sometimes, they're only people after all, and she is going to call and tell him that she needs her medicine raised and he didn't tell her that they're taking her off it. If they took her off of it then your mom would die and that's ridiculous because she isn't going to die. She can't die. Your eyes betray you with tears and your lip is pouting but you still don't know why because your mom isn't dying. A tear slips down your cheek and that's when you feel your entire body collapsing in on itself and a few more fall before you feel Carmilla's arms around you. "No. Not really."

* * *

><p>"Carmilla, doctors make mistakes, don't they?" Laura is sniffling lightly as she wipes her cheeks with the tissue you handed her. You held her for half an hour before she couldn't breathe and needed her rescue inhaler from the sobbing taking its toll. You're both alone now in her room as she's trying to collect herself.<p>

"I'm sure they do. Maybe not in the medical sense as much but they are human after all. Nobody's perfect." Your eyes notice her lip jut out a bit more as you say medical which breaks your heart a little because it hits you that this must be about her mother. "What did she tell you?"

Laura stares at you like her moon was torn from the sky and the stars had been stolen from her eyes and it physically hurts you to see it. "They're taking her off her medicine."

You know that without her medicine, Laura's mother will die. In the time knowing the family, you easily slipped in by coming over often with Will and helping them with birthdays and church fundraisers and anything they did, really. Her mother rubbed your back and talked to you and Will when you were sad and she made you hot chocolate and tucked you in when it was the middle of the night and you had almost forgotten that feeling. Along with you and your brother being accepted into the household, you'd learned that Laura's mother was very sick and that they were patiently waiting for a sort of miracle to cure her. It must've never come. You sit on the bed beside where she is placed and wrap your arm around her waist to pull her closer. The box of tissue is placed on your lap and you feel the weight of her head on your shoulder. "I'm sorry, Laura." You know it doesn't help much but it's all you really have to offer and she knows this and accepts it. Laura has the kindest heart you've ever known.

"I know, Carm. I should've known this was happening, really. I mean, it's just so easy to forget. Some days she's bed ridden and I know that it's not going to be okay because they expected her to die years ago but then she has days where she's doing everything and she's so full of energy and life and… I forget. I forget it all and it hits me even harder each time." You've seen both these days and you know the feeling in her heart. When she speaks of this it makes you think of Ell. You try not to because pulling your attention from Laura is selfish, but you can't help it. You think of Ell lying in her bed with a pale smile on her face. She told you it was okay. She told you she was sick and it was okay because everything happens for a reason and you told her it wasn't because she couldn't die. She wasn't going to. But she did and your mind follows you to Laura and you realize that if she hadn't died then you never would be this close to her. She wouldn't be your best friend. Without Ell dying you would be without Laura and you can't fight the bittersweet pounding of your heart because Ell was the smartest person you've ever met.

"Laura… What if she's meant to die?" Your eyes go wide because that came out wrong and you shake your head but she's already torn herself from your body. "No, wait, I didn't mean it like that—"

"Then how did you mean it, Carmilla?" She's standing and she's angry and you know that she's upset and that she isn't thinking how she normally does, but it doesn't matter. She's in tears again and you know she needs to let this out.

"I meant that everything happens for a reason, Laura, and maybe-"

"That's a lie. That is crap, Carmilla. It doesn't happen for a reason. There is no reason for my mom to die." You're cringing because you've never seen Laura this mad before or even mad at you at all and she has never in your entire friendship raised her voice at you.

"I-I know, it's just that whenever death has happened around me, there are always some positives that come out of-"

"I don't know what you need to tell yourself so that you can deal with the fact that your dad killed himself and your old friend is dead, but they have nothing to do with my mom, Carmilla. They have nothing to do with her and you don't know everything so get over it. They're dead and my mom is not so stop making this about you. Stop trying to make me feel bad for you because my mom isn't dead and your dad is. Stop trying to make me feel sorry for you because you watched your cancerous friend die because my mom doesn't have cancer and she isn't dead. This isn't about you." You see her eyes widen up as soon as she speaks those words and she tries to move closer but you shove yourself away quickly.

_Selfish. You are selfish._

"Carm, I…Carmilla…" She's crying but you can't focus on that. Of course you can't. You can only focus on yourself. "I didn't mean that."

You rise to your feet because you don't deserve her apologies. You don't deserve for her to take it back. You don't deserve Laura. You've never deserved Laura.  
>"Carmilla, please. Please don't cry."<p>

You're trying not to. You shouldn't be crying. There's no reason for you to cry. Laura should be crying and you need to stop making this about you. You need to stop begging for pity. _Stop crying_, you tell yourself, _You're selfish_.

"Carmilla, I'm sorry."

You cringe again because you don't deserve those words. You move to the door quickly with your breath short. You hear her follow you but you can't do it, you don't deserve her. You can't listen to her and you can't see because of the tears and then you realize you can't _breathe_.

You're laboring your breath and you're scratching at your cheeks because the tears are making them itch and you're trying to make it to the door but a warm figure catches you and you're frantically trying to escape and you're trying to get away because you don't deserve warmth. You don't deserve to be held. You're gasping and your cheeks are burning from your nails clawing at them and you don't know what to do besides give up. Of course you give up. You are weak. You are undeserving. You are selfish. You go limp against the body and you look up to see Laura's mom looking at you sadly and running her hand through your hair and it feels nice. You want to yank away and run home and sit alone but you feel that you can't. You're leaning into the touch and the comfort when she lowers down and tells you softly that she has you and to breathe. She's reminding you to breathe and she's counting with you;

_**In**- One. Two. Three. Four. _

_**Hold**- One. Two. Three. Four. _

_**Out**- One. Two. Three. Four. _

_**Hold**- One. Two. Three. Four. _

_One. Two. Three. Four._

_One. Two. Three. Four._

You repeat it six times, and you're scared that you should be done by now but Laura's mother stares at you with loving eyes. "Just take your time, sweetheart. We can do it as many times as you need."

You smile a little while you shake. Your mother never lets you take your time when you have fits. She tells you fits are for infants and to collect yourself immediately.

"Let's just get that little shake out of you. You're not the Energizer Bunny, you're my sweet Carmilla and tears do not have a place in those pretty little eyes."

You feel your heart calm and the pads of her thumbs trace your irritated cheeks.

_One. Two. Three. Four._

* * *

><p>Carmilla isn't talking to you anymore.<p>

It isn't that she's ignoring you because she still comes over and she still says actual words to you, but they're mostly meaningless and she won't tell you why she's upset like she used to. You know it's your fault and what you said to her. You didn't mean it, but it all just came out and you don't know why it did or why you couldn't control it. She gives you one or two worded answers and spends a lot of time reading and when she's not reading she's quiet and you don't watch Say Yes To The Dress with her anymore because she's so quiet.

You both used to sit on your couch and turn on TLC during the Fridays when they had wedding shows marathoning and she would wear your mom's wedding dress because it was elegant and graceful and timeless and beautiful and so was Carmilla.

You wore your mom's vow renewal dress that she wore on your family trip to Hawaii to have a special twenty year anniversary ceremony. It wasn't nearly as detailed as the one Carmilla wore but even still Carm said you looked stunning and it made your stomach turn. She wouldn't even put on the dress when you brought it out for the marathon a few days ago. She told you it was okay and she didn't feel very well so she didn't need to wear the wedding dress. While the episodes were on she didn't even tell you how much she hated the dress with the feathers like she always does because she cannot stand feathers on any type of dress. "_They belong on birds not on a wedding dress,_" she'd say,"_I don't know what she's even thinking. She's blowing twenty thousand dollars to look tacky,"_ if only she were speaking to you_. _

You didn't want her to know how upset it made you but you think she could tell because she held your hand while you watched TV and gave you one of those sad smiles that she gives Will sometimes when he has a bad dream.

You felt like a baby which sort of happens around her, but it was just that this was your guys's thing. You both sit on your couch on Friday nights while Will builds Legos with your dad and you watch Say Yes To The Dress or Four Weddings and you talk about your wedding days. You both wear your mom's dresses and you laugh at ugly dresses and plan to have ice bars and obnoxious photo booths at your reception and she doesn't ignore you. The most important thing about your Fridays is that she doesn't ignore you and you both laugh and you pretend and you talk and you have fun with each other because you love each other and that's what best friends do. You sit in dresses and you talk to each other about everything and you plan your weddings like they're happening within the next five years when they're not.

More than often you picture yourself marrying Carmilla, but you don't tell her that when you talk about it.

Your chest tightens because none of this matters any more. None of it matters because Carmilla isn't talking to you and so Bride Days are ruined and your friendship is ruined and everything is ruined.

You feel like a baby again because you turn your head and see Carmilla, oh so mature Carmilla, reading some book in French. She was reading in **French**. You found out she spoke the language just recently when you were finally introduced to her mom after over a year of being best friends who spends most of her time in Europe and chose to favor anywhere but home.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Carm?" Will is sitting across the table from you with big eyes as his full plate of dinner sits in front of him. You smile a little at the nickname he picked up from Laura and glance to meet his stare.<p>

"Yes, Will?" You frown as you notice he hasn't eaten any of his Chinese food. You ordered it particularly because it was his favorite and he did so well on his spelling work and progress report and, really, anything he brought home that he deserves a treat. You want to make sure that he knows how proud you as of him, of how proud everyone is of him.

"Are you and Laura still best friends?"

The question makes you tense and you purse your lips before answering. "Of course, why do you ask?" You know why he's asking. You haven't been acting the same since her blowup and your meltdown in her mother's arms and he's noticed. He always does. He's such a smart kid, of course he does.

"I don't know. You don't really laugh around her as much anymore. And she looks sad around you when you don't. And me and Kirsch laugh all the time and so I know he's my best friend!" His eyes light up with excitement and he flashes an uneven grin. His teeth are quickly falling and growing into place and you remind yourself to put a memo in your phone to make sure that you set aside your singles to use for tooth fairy money. There's nothing more disappointing than waking up to a pillow on top of a handful of quarters, granted it was more than you got, but still. He deserves the nicely folded dollar bills that he saves up for the night you take him to the arcade every month so that he has extra spending money from the twenty you hand him. If your mother's consistent with anything, at least it's money.

"I know you guys do. He's a really good friend to you, huh?" You've seen him walk out with Brody Kirsch every day after school since the beginning of this year, and now approaching eight you can't believe that your little Will has a best friend. His mother is kind and she works a lot (though she works nights and sleeps while Brody's in school so she can take care of him afterwards so she's home to him all the time which you think is nice and a bold sacrifice to make). She trusts you and she knows your situation and sometimes freezes casseroles for you to make for dinner which you appreciate because with homework and your mother pressuring you to teach yourself piano it's tough to crank out fully nutritional meals for Will and she let's you watch the boys after school when they want to play or she'll take them to the park and give Will a ride home. Her number is saved in your phone and you know that you can call her to watch Will if you ever need it which is nice because she knows what snacks to feed him and to do it before homework and that he's allergic to coconut and pineapple and you've never really trusted anyone with Will ever besides Laura's parents, but you trust her with him which is a really nice feeling to have.

"Yeah! He's awesome and he plays Skylanders with me and even has Trap Team, Carm. How cool is that?" He's started eating his food and he's talking animatedly now about the game he's obsessed with and you can't wait for his birthday so he can open up his new Playstation with the latest version of his game that he's been talking about for months.

"That's super cool, bub. Maybe I can text his mom and we can see about you going over there this weekend?"

"No, I think I want to go to Laura's. We're still talking about her, y'know." When you called him smart before you accidentally left out sneaky and his perfect memory of everything that he's picked up over the years. You roll your eyes and he shakes his head. "I don't know what happened, but I think she's really sorry, Carm. I asked her dad when we were making the spaceship that I got for Christmas and he said that Laura was upset and said some things she didn't mean. He told me that sometimes we do things without thinking because we're scared and hurt, but he thinks that it'll all work itself out and that no matter what he'll always be around to build Legos with me." You smile because Laura's father is great and he confessed to you that he's always wanted a son, though he loves Laura to no extent, and that's why he's more than happy to spend some time with Will and to help be a positive male role model in his life, if that was okay with you and your mother. You tell him that it's perfectly fine and you're glad he's there to help you with Will. You're glad everyone you've picked up in your lives are there to help you guys now.

You never realized how much better it could make things be from how your mother described it.

"I'm sure he will." You think over the fact that she's apologized to you numerous times and that every time you look in her eyes you see the sincerity that you're sure won't be there.

"You say things you don't mean sometimes, Carm. You remember that one time at the park that you told that duck it was stupid?" You chuckle a little bit because he remembers the most random stories from countless insignificant days.

"Yes, William, I remember calling the duck stupid."

"Yeah, but he wasn't and you admitted it when you got home! You were mad he took the sandwich from the bench when I set it down— on my paper bag so I wouldn't get germs like you told me. But then the next day we just brought him his own sandwich I made so that you could apologize." You remember him forcing you to help him make an apology sandwich and set it down on the ground on a paper bag so that the duck wouldn't get any germs.

"I'm the duck in this case, huh?" You know he's right. For someone so young, he's bright. He reminds you of yourself sometimes; far ahead of your years. You frown at that mostly because you don't want him to grow up too quick; You want him to enjoy being a kid as long as he can, but sometimes you want to smile at it because you know that he's going to go places and he will handle himself well.

"Yes, you're the duck and she's handing you apology sandwiches a lot. It's time to take a little nibble, Carm."

You laugh as he takes a small bite to dramatize his words. "Alright. Whatever you say, kiddo."

* * *

><p>Carmilla calls you before you get into bed and you smile when she does because it'd been a week and a half since she called you and your mom said if you were patient that she'd call and she was right. You need to remember to tell her as soon as you see her that you did get a call.<p>

You answer it eagerly and her voice hits you and it makes your heart stop because wow have you missed that voice.

"Hey, Laura." She's nervous and you know because whenever Carmilla is nervous she has this thing where she starts to mumble and her face gets pink and it's really cute and you can totally hear how cute it is in her voice.

"Hi, cutie."

She relaxes and lets the air out of her lungs as she laughs a little bit,"Isn't that usually what I call you?" This is easy and she is talking to you like she used to which is all you've wanted for ten entire days.

"Well," you say in a matter-of-fact tone,"you actually haven't been calling me at all, so that's not true."

Carmilla scoffs and you never thought you could miss the annoying reactions that your best friend makes when you're trying to be intimidating but you did and hearing the noise from the back of her throat makes your grip tighten and your smile widen and your heart is about to burst because she's back. Your best friend is back and she loves you and she's talking to you and things couldn't be better.

"Sunshine, don't make me regret this by jabbing at me."

But you only laugh because you know that she won't because she's your best friend in the entire world and she called you sunshine and you can hear her smile, even though, of course, it's not just for you.

(That doesn't stop you from pretending that it is.)

* * *

><p>Will is turning seven today and it's quite possibly the hardest thing you've ever gone through. He's dressed in a dress shirt with tiny little rockets all around it and a dark blue bow tie is secure around his neck. He smiles at you brightly with the gaps across his mouth and you want to cry because he's growing up. You can't stop him from doing it no matter how you try and now you're little William is turning seven years old.<p>

"Carm, is Laura coming today?"

You giggle because he's developed a little crush on her and nod your head. "Of course. Why would she miss her true love's birthday party, silly?"

"I have absolutely no clue. I just wanted to be sure. She's a great girl. I'm gonna ask her to get married soon." He looks down bashfully. "I already talked to her parents. They said I'm a perfect fit for the family."

You're both already a part of the family. You figured that he would know that by the special breakfast that Laura's mother made him and the Lego birthday cake that her father presented to him with the dorky grin that he passed down to Laura, but for such a smart kid he tends to be a bit dim around his place in their hearts. "They're not wrong. She's a lucky girl to have such a hunk like you. The ladies in your class must be green with envy."

He raises his eyebrows up and down and he gives this charming look that reminds you of your dad. He used to smile at your mother just like that. It was when she used to laugh so much and she would come home every night and she would tuck you and your brother in while your dad sang soft lullabies. You really need to shake off these memories. You remind yourself that they'll get you nowhere.

"William, you can't possibly be wearing that silly shirt." Your mother's voice washes through the room and you see Will's eyes dim a little. He picked it out himself when you took him to the mall and he thought that it was the absolute most amazing thing he's ever seen.

"I can't?" He asks and you know it's a bad idea because your mother hates when you talk back.

"No, William. Take that off immediately and put on something more formal. I refuse to have you seen wearing something as ridiculous as a shirt with little..." A look of disgust crosses her mouth. "Racecars or whatever the tiny pattern consists of."

His lip pouts a little and you're finding yourself angry because this is his birthday. He should be enjoying it.

"Mother, they're spaceships." You don't realize you're speaking until the words are slipping from your lips.

"What was that, Carmilla?" Her voice is rising at that and she sounds mad. Your tone starts to fall as her eyes meet yours. You divert your eyes but they meet Will's and he looks crushed that his birthday isn't even going to be his day and you just can't stop yourself.

"On his shirt. They're spaceships. He really really likes the shirt. He picked it out himself for his birthday." You're mumbling a bit and she steps closer to you. "Maybe you should let him wear it for his party. I think that he looks very handsome." You watch him form a crooked smile and it's all worth it. The look that you're receiving is worth it because he needs to know that he looks nice in the shirt he picked out for his birthday.

Suddenly she has a smile on her lips and it makes you nervous. Now she's nodding towards your little brother. "Very well. William, run along to your guests. I believe your sister and I need to have a conversation."

You're scared. You're so scared. You've spoken out of place to your mother only three times before and she has yet to touch you in any harmful way but her gaze makes you feel like your lungs are filled with the dust from chalk and your skin is crawling. You try to step backwards but her steps towards you are quicker and she has her arm firmly on your shoulder.

"Carmilla, I don't think I need to remind you of your place in this household." She's so mad and she's spitting your name out like it's poison and you want to cry, but you can't. If you cry then you're begging for attention and you don't want her pity. You don't want anyone's pity. "You are a _child_, Carmilla. You do not disrespect me by speaking out against my words, especially not in front of your younger brother. You're the child and I'm the adult and if I say that he is not wearing a ridiculous shirt with whatever is on them to his party filled with people who expect well dressed children greeting them, then you will be quiet. You keep your mouth shut and stop begging for attention, Carmilla. This is ridiculous. You are ridiculous." She's getting louder and louder as she goes on and you feel tinier and tinier with each rise of volume she provides. "Get these selfish, disrespectful outbursts out of the way. You will get absolutely no where with a mindset like this."

She's right. You know it. You're never getting anywhere. You're selfish. You're rude. Why would anyone give you a chance?

"If you're going to start crying then get out of my sight. I don't need a show. I need a respectful daughter who will do more than disappoint me with her worthless episodes because she doesn't remember that she is not the center of this family. Don't you think you've ruined your brother's day enough, Carmilla? Today is not about you." She's shaking her head and walking towards the door. "You can join the party when you've decided that you can put aside yourself for enough time to actually consider William."

You want to fight but any defense escapes your mind because she's right. She's always right. Your mother is never wrong because she loves you and she wants you to succeed. She wants you to be the very best and you're holding yourself from it because you're selfish. You're so selfish. You're ruining Will's birthday and now you're crying and you realize that you want something. Of every time you've ever been confronted, you've never felt the need for something but right now you crave a warm touch.

You start to realize that you crave Laura's warm touch or her mother's warm touch or her father's. You want to feel loved and you want to feel like you matter and it's because you're being selfish again. You're always being selfish.

You take a deep breath and you turn towards the door because you need to go and be there for your brother.

_One. Two. Three. Four._

_One. Two. Three. Four._


	3. 7th Grade

**wow ok mama hollis dies so major warning for that and basically this is a pretty short chapter and pretty sad so yeah those are my warnings to you**

* * *

><p>"You remind me of her."<p>

Carmilla is laying across from you on your bed and it's easily two or three in the morning. You spend a lot of nights just sitting and talking but the thing is you really wouldn't trade it because she always seems to open up once it passes midnight. Her hair is pulled back with a headband which you're grateful for because you can study every feature of her face. It seems that she thinks the same.

"What do you mean?"

She has a smile on her face that's not full but only slight and her eyes are drifting up and down. You should feel insecure but you never seem to when it comes to her. You can't help but move a little closer because she has that tone that you love that she has when she tells you stories.

"You remind me of Ell. It's not just in the obvious ways like your eyes are this...golden type of brown filled with all this curiosity and optimism. And you both have those little moles right by your mouth." She raises her hand and lightly taps the corner of her lips to emphasize the spot. You've seen pictures of Ell and even being seen as anything close to as pretty as she was makes you feel special. "It's not just like that, though. You make me smile on the days where I don't think I can like she did." Carmilla tells you things like this sometimes and each time it feels like you just found three of your mom's strawberry shortcake cookies on the counter and it wasn't even a birthday or holiday. "It sounds silly. I mean, I was eight when I actually saw her last, y'know? It's been pretty much five years. I still remember her, though, vividly. She was barely shorter than me. Her hair was very smooth and it had this gorgeous curl that I used to be so jealous of. My hair was always so, so much thicker and far curlier than hers and I was a mess compared to her in general. Her voice was soft and joyful. She always was out to make everyone happy; just like you. She always did make everyone happy; just like you again." Your eyes glance down while your cheeks burn. You can't help but wonder how Carmilla sees you the ways that she does. "She and I were inseparable. Our mothers would dress us in the most expensive gowns that we would destroy outside in the dirt. 'The prettiest dresses for the prettiest girls,' they would tell us. We laughed at it." She laughs a little now and her laugh sounds like a million puppies playing except better. "When I found my father, she held my hand while I cried. I had just walked in on my father behind his desk with a bullet in his head, and she held my hand and told me that it would be okay. I believed her. I felt insane because I had just lost him and he was my dad. I was his little girl. I felt insane because she told me it would be okay and I can remember looking into her eyes and knowing it would."

Carmilla doesn't talk much about her dad so when she does you tend to just let her speak.

"He was really great, y'know. He was really fun. We did pretty much everything together. It was me and him until Will rolled along, and then it was me, him, and Will. We were inseparable. Well... until he was gone. And it used to tear me apart because Will has been heartbroken about it his entire life. With my dad gone and my mom gone now, he didn't even get to enjoy the days he was around. He doesn't remember them. I sometimes have trouble remembering them. I was so scared that he'd grow up absolutely miserable and he wouldn't smile or laugh or do anything he wanted, but all Ell had to do was look at me and tell me that he would be okay and I had no doubts he would."

You don't want to say much because you know that if you say the wrong thing she could shut down and you know you don't want her to. She's told you the circumstances of how he died and when she found him, but each time you hear it your heart stops for a second. She doesn't like talking about him or really Will in the negative sense that much. It's almost like she's dancing around it to avoid jinxing it. Her eyes meet yours and her lips are molding into a grin from the pursed look they'd taken on which sends a rush of relief through your body. "You make me feel insane like that. You grab my hand and you tell me that things will be great and I believe you." You start to smile widely and it makes her teeth show in her own smile now. "My blind faith in you is going to be the end of me, Laura Hollis."

You can't stop your hand from reaching hers and squeezing it.

* * *

><p>Laura's favorite color is yellow because it is the color of the flowers that she places on her mother's bedside table the first night of her last. She chose the orchids from the entire array the florist had because they were the only yellow in a sea of pinks and whites and they vibrated life and joy which reminded you of Laura's smile and her laugh and her quest for world peace. She tells you as she puts the money for the bunch on the counter that her favorite color has shifted from red to yellow because yellow is the most beautiful color she's ever seen. You glance at her wide grin and you agree.<p>

"Sunshine, your mom wants some more ice cream from the cafeteria; ya want me to bring you up a cup?" You're gently tapping Laura's shoulder. You're on winter break from school, so you've spent four nights straight in the hospital beside Laura's mother in her bed while her father is at home with Will and visits during the day. It's nearing nine which means that her mother is due for another seizure and you can't bear to be in the room again while it happens. Ell had seizures from a reaction to some medicine they put her on for nausea and since then every time you see one your body freezes and your lungs shrink because your best friend's dying breath was given in the midst of her body convulsing. You know that she understands because she glanced at the clock before she asked you for a chocolate vanilla swirl.

Laura's eyes drift from the tile of the floor to yours. She looks tired and sad but she's trying to fight it. "Oh, I'll go with you, Carm." You walk over to her mother's bed and you place a kiss on her forehead before Laura does the same. "We'll be right back, mom."

From the bed you receive a weak nod before she puckers her lips to mimic a kiss back. "Take your time, girls. I love you."

"We love you, too." You both say it in unison. You say it before leaving the room at any time for any reason like it is programmed into your reflexes but you don't mind. You've realized within the passed year that Laura's mother has been more of a mother to you than your own and it slowly starts to pick apart your viewpoint on how to express your emotions. Even if your mother doesn't need to say 'I love you' often to mean it, it's nice to hear and it's nice to say back when you mean it with your entire heart to someone. Laura's hand laces with yours and you hear her whisper that she loves you as well. (Okay, so hearing it is very, very, _very _ nice.)

Laura races you to the elevator, though it's not much of a race when you're connected by your limbs and she's dragging you along. She's wearing her fuzzy socks with snowflakes on them and you're wearing her pair with polar bears which should make you feel ridiculous but you don't. You think that your entire outfit should make you feel ridiculous seeing as you're wearing matching pajama pants covered in foxes with snowflakes on navy blue and you're both wearing sweaters that Laura's father got you for Christmas that have your initials like the Weasleys and Harry in Harry Potter, but you still don't and you won't question it because you're warm and happy.

"I think I want to get gummy bears on mine, Carm. Do you have any vending money left?" She tells you this while you're landing on the lower level and you both immediately turn right to get to the cafeteria.

"I just have the money for the ice cream, but I can run and get some when we bring it back up." She smiles at you more before she's tugging you into line and you're sliding along a tray with three glass cups on it. You fill each to the brim with the tube in the middle of the machine that swirls both chocolate and vanilla and Laura plops chocolate sauce onto her own cup and her mother's before showering yours in nuts. You go to pay as she decorates.

When you make it upstairs you're walking in front of her because she's on the phone saying goodnight to her dad and you're balancing a tray of ice cream while casually slipping on your socks along the way. You're just to the door when you hear the voices in the room and you feel your heart constricts because machines are beeping and this isn't just the nurse that's there for her seizures. You count a total of four voices when you actually turn you see her mother lying too still and doctors rushing to perform different actions and you can't breathe. You can't breathe and your ice cream falls and this can't be happening because you're supposed to walk in and the three of you are going to watch Criminal Minds like you do with ice cream at nine thirty and there aren't doctors crowding her bed because from the looks of the monitors Laura's mother isn't breathing and her heart doesn't have a beat which is crazy because it just did before you left.

There's a nurse pushing you out and she's telling you it's okay that you dropped the tray when you haven't even apologized yet and you still can't breathe and suddenly you're spinning around because _Laura. _You rush towards her and she's trying to fight you but she can't see that. You know she can't see that so you push her as hard as you can towards the other side of the hospital and the other side of the world because she can't see what's happening in the room and you won't let her see it. You're shaking your head and you can feel your eyes start to form tears and you're telling Laura firmly that you can't let her go and she's crying now, too, because she knows what's happening. She knows why there's a nurse in the hallway staring at you two sadly and she knows why you're not letting her go into the room and she knows why there's so much noise coming from it. You both know why exactly that moment feels like the entire world is crashing around you and that's because it is.

* * *

><p>Your mom dies on a Wednesday. The doctors tell you that her body gave out because she couldn't handle the strain of being sick and you get out two and a half sentences of your rant on it being their fault from removing her from her normal medicine before Carm grabs your arm and pulls you out of the room and down the stairs and all the way to the farther side of the parking lot on the other end of the hospital from where you were. She always just kind of knows what to do and for all the time you spend hating it for making you feel childish, you also couldn't be more thankful.<p>

You'd never really known the sense of panic until you were being held back in the hall and what sucks is that it doesn't leave you for a few days. Sure, you've had moments of missing items and too many stacks of homework and dropping something you weren't supposed to but you never really understood the counting thing that Carmilla does until she has to teach it to you because it's now you who can't breathe and your heart that is pounding a million beats a second and your eyes are now full of tears while you are shaking- god, you can't stop shaking. Your mom is dead and you're crying and you're shaking and this really sucks because today is Friday but instead of sitting on your couch with your best friend in wedding dresses watching TV, you are sitting in your bathroom while Carmilla curls your hair to go to your mom's funeral.

"Well, sunshine, we're not going to get much progress done on your makeup if you keep crying it off." Carm is trying to smile and you are, too, but she's doing a better job. She always does. She amazes you. She finishes up your last curl and reaches for the wipes on the counter. You feel a cool trail down your cheeks as your eyes fall shut. "Let's just get your face cleaned up and we won't even worry about makeup today." You look to see her carefully wiping your skin and her own eyes squinted while they follow the features of your face. "I've always thought that you were way too pretty for it."

"Shut up." Half of your face is pulling into a smile and your body feels hot. You don't know how she manages to get you to feel this way in any situation but for the first time since Wednesday your heart is beating fast and it's not because you're panicking. It's beating fast because that's what Carmilla does to you.

"Wow." she laughs sarcastically and runs her thumbs under your eyes. Her touch is soft and it reminds you of your mom. Your heart starts beating again but not because of Carm. "This is what I get for sharing my heart, Hollis." You chuckle before she fakes a pout and she tosses the wipe into the trash. "How will I ever confess my undying love for you now?" She flashes you this smile that makes your stomach turn and nothing is wrong in the moment because when Carmilla looks at you with those eyes and that smile nothing can possibly be wrong despite how upset you'll ever be. She's sort of your soulmate you decide because while all the other girls you know are talking to people and talking about dating and dances (which are quite silly traditions since you're hardly even all thirteen and you don't know why everyone just wants to grow up but whatever) and all you know is that you really only think of Carmilla when you take those magazine quizzes that the older girls leave in the bathroom at school after they're finished with them.

She kisses your forehead before she turns and the lace of her dress grazes your arm. "I'm just going to go check on Will, and I'll be right back, okay?" She's managing to balance checking and getting all you, Will, and your dad ready for today which really is insane. She woke up before eight today to do her hair and she put on the most beautiful black lace dress you've ever seen and her makeup makes her look so much older and she's so pretty and she's so great. She's so wonderful and you want to tell her this so you jump up and follow her to the guest room but something stops you before you walk in.

Will is crying. The happy-go-lucky, Lego building third grader that you love almost more than you love like he is your own brother is crying in your guest room and it's kind of breaking your heart. "It's just not fair. I didn't even get to know her. It's what happened with dad, Carm. This is what happened with him except she didn't kill herself. She wanted me. No one else even wants me and she wanted me and she loved me, but now she's gone."

"No, no, no," Carmilla coos at him with her fingers swiping his tears, "I don't ever want to hear that." She kneels in front of him and her voice gets firmer. "Don't ever think that no one wants you. Ever." You watch her run her hand through her hair and you want to reach out to her but you don't. You know you shouldn't. "Will, I love you. I love you more than anything else in this world. Do you know that?" He nods sadly and smiles for a second before it falls again. "I need you to listen to me when I tell you this. Dad wanted you. Will, he loved you so much. Sometimes... things are more complicated than we can understand, especially when we're young. You're just a kid still. No one expects you to understand it. You don't even have to believe me if you don't want to or you can't; that's okay. Even with him out of the picture, Mother loves you. Laura loves you. Her father loves you. Your friends love you. Bubbe and Zayde love you. They all love you and they all want you."

Will's tears have slowed and he's listening to her closely now. It's nice to know that she has this effect on others, too. "Laura's mother loved you, too, Will. Of course she did. And I know that it's hard to take in but doctors can only do so much. Things take their course and it's hard to take in but it will get easier. Not right away, but they will. And even if they don't seem to, I'll be here with you the entire way. If you have nothing else, I'll be here to love you and want you and to take care of you enough for every being in this universe." He sniffs his nose and he smiles full on while his arms fly around her neck. You hear her laugh and a quiet 'I love you' muffled into her shoulder before you decide that you should leave them. Honestly, you shouldn't have even followed her. But you did. Of course you did. And you invaded her time with her brother and you could've easily ruined their moment and you turn to move towards the kitchen because you just need some water. You're going to get some water and then you're going to go to the cemetery and you're going to watch your mom get buried.

God. Your mom is going to get buried.

You try to take a breath and remember what to do.

_One. Two. Three. Four._

* * *

><p>Laura doesn't really want to celebrate her birthday this year. You're not surprised. Her mother died three months ago, but you still find her torn apart and she's still not the same as she was before. You don't expect her to be. Your mother is upset you're never home but neither is she so you find it rather ironic and choose to ignore it because you know that Laura and her father need you and Will here.<p>

"Hey, sunshine. I made you a surprise." You balance the plate behind your back as you walk into her room. She's laying on her bed. She's been there all day and it's rounding on six which is not really a way to spend your thirteenth birthday. You were lucky enough to have her mom around for yours. She made you cinnamon rolls and special red velvet cookies and you feel awful because honestly, it should've been Laura doing that. She should be spending today with her mother. You took that from her.

_Selfish, selfish, selfish._

"I don't want any surprises." She's talking into her pillow and it makes you laugh. It peaks her interest and she glances up so you move closer.

"Oh really? Well, it happens to be a very chocolatey surprise, which I know you're fond of." She sits up higher and her eyes are directed to your hands behind your back.

"Well..." She's doing that cute awkward smile thing that she does where her lips are pressed tightly together and you missed it. You've missed her. She comes around in flashes but lately her mind has been distant, but she's trying to push through and you know she is because Laura is incredible. She's the strongest person you know. "I mean, if you brought it, it would really be rude of me not to check it out."

She moves closer and presses her body against you to reach around and grab the plate, but you're not as fazed as you thought you would be because you guys touch a lot. She tugs the creampuff that you made for her to her and her smile grows to a full on shining grin. She takes a bite before speaking again. "Holy crap, Carm, this is delicious."

You swat and look down. "Nah. It's nothing. I, uh... I looked up recipes from your mom's cookbook. It took a while to perfect it."

She's still smiling and it makes you so happy because her smile is so beautiful and you've missed it. "You called her my mom."

You're not sure why she's announcing it, but she looks like it's this huge moment. "Isn't that what she is?"

"No, no, yeah. She is my mom- um, was. She was my mom. But you called her my _mom_ , Carm." You're still confused, but she's still smiling that wide smile with all her teeth showing while taking little bites of her creampuff so you decide that it's okay. "You've never not used mother before, Carm. You always called her my mother."

"Oh." You were always taught to address parents properly. You were told it's polite to use mom or dad or any form other than the formal mother and father. If you don't use formal words then people won't respect you and you won't be successful. It's a trail. Everything is linked and you need to make sure that you keep yourself checked because you need to be successful. The last thing Will needs is another parent gone, especially for something as self absorbed as being disappointed in you.

"I like it." You're trying to remind yourself that everything is linked but now Laura's eyes are wide and bright and you haven't seen them like that since before it happened and it's her birthday and she's finally smiling on her birthday and you don't even remember what you were reminding yourself because, wow, her eyes are brown and she sort of has the cream from the creampuff all over the tip of her nose and it's really cute.

"Yeah, uh huh. Me too, sunshine."

* * *

><p>"Are you doing okay, Laura?" Susan is looking at you from the seat next to you in the computer lab and you really hope it isn't painfully obvious that without Carmilla at school, you don't really know what to do with yourself.<p>

"Yeah, of course." You wave your hand at her and scoff. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, we were supposed to start working on our history project twenty minutes ago, but you're on a Google search page for miracle flu remedies." You notice that your monitor is indeed on that screen which is weird because you don't even really remember searching it. "Where's Carmilla, anyways? Doesn't she normally sit on your other side and make sure you work?"

"She does not make sure I work. I have perfect worth ethics. If you must know, she's at home helping take care of her brother. He has the flu and she didn't want my dad to get it since he's just getting over that super bad cold that's been floating around and so she's keeping him at her house until it passes over a bit more. She's so sweet, isn't she? I should text her that because she could probably use a little pick me up." You reach for your phone, but Susan's giggling stops you. "What?"

"Oh nothing... It's just that you have quite the crush growing on her, Hollis."

"Pfft. **Crush** . Don't be crazy, Susan." That is probably crazy. A crush on Carmilla is totally probably crazy because that's your best friend and you just love her a lot _obviously._ "She's my best friend."

She shrugs in response and types a bit into the computer in front of her. "Lola is my best friend and I asked her to go to the movies on Saturday as a date." She's shrugging like it's the most casual thing in the world and it's really nice because this is how it should be. Topics like this should be casual and easy. (Plus, Lola and Susan are kind of perfect for each other and they're really cute- especially when Lola is doing Susan's hair before school and clipping it up the way that she likes.)

"Well, me and Carm are not you and Lola." It's a solid defense.

"Yeah, you and _Carm _ are probably closer." She's teasing, and you know she is, but hearing the nickname from her lips sounds wrong and it makes you feel almost angry. No one else calls her Carm besides you and Will and you like it that way. It's special that way. You just sort of roll your eyes in response and push her shoulder before you start searching the type of soldiers that were in play during the sixteenth century.

"Yeah, okay, whatever, Susan. Do your work." She's probably just going crazy. That's a totally reasonable explanation. She's totally crazy because you have great work skills and no crush whatsoever on your best friend and speaking of your best friend, you totally need to text her. Susan starts talking again but you sort of zone out to pull out your phone.

_Hey, just a reminder that you're the sweetest person in this world! How's Will doing?_

**_You're such a dork. He's doing a lot better. I have him on the nebulizer right now for his cough and I got his fever back down to 100. I'm thinking one more day in bed and he should be as good as new._ **

_That's great! I'm really glad he's feeling better! _

_**I am, too. How would you feel about coming over after school and having a bad reality TV marathon? It feels weird not spending the day with you.** _

_I miss you, too, Carm :) I'll walk over as soon as I get out! _

**_Alright, now get back to work. I'm pretty sure you should be researching for Mrs. B's class right now. _ **

Okay. So maybe your work ethics are _minorly _ flawed, but that doesn't mean anything. Susan's still crazy and you're ready to groan because there's still half an hour left of this class and you have to research soldiers from forever ago.

_I am researching. Go worry about Will. I'll see you guys soon! _

You're tempted to send her a standard ' _I love you!' _ but Susan's crush talk makes you feel awkward before you do. What if she doesn't want to hear it? What if she thinks you mean you're in love with her? You're not in love with her. You can't be in love with her, you don't even have a crush on her. Maybe you should stop saying it all together. Or maybe you should see if she sends it first and if she does then you should send it back. Or you could stop thinking about it and just send her it. Your phone buzzes in your lap and it's now definitely that you will send it if she sends it first, which she probably won't even do. Why would she? She probably won't just tell you that she loves you over and over again. She's this really cool, super pretty, way more awesome than you'll ever be young woman that you can't even reason as being best friends with dweeby you and your baby freckles and short body. She might not even like telling you that she loves you when she does.

**_Okay, have a good day! Love you xx_ **

(Or she's this really cool, super pretty, way more awesome than you'll ever be young woman that totally does love you and even so much so that she does it with- not one- but **two **x's. You've never been more relieved.)


	4. 8th Grade

**Oh god, birthdays and broadway nerd and dumb in love things galore**

* * *

><p>Okay, so Carmilla is really into musical theater. You only repeat this once but the emphasis is ungodly because she once told you that if she were to be shot and killed on the corner of the Broadway Theater that she would thank her killer with the words recited with Eponine's last breaths in her death scene of Les Mis (respectively in the style of none other than Broadway's best Eponine, Lea Salonga, who she acknowledges as the only Eponine besides Samantha Barks on the film). It's a bit much and it makes you laugh because your best friend is a dork; such a dork that when her grandparents decide to take her to New York for her fourteenth birthday, you and her bubbe plan to surprise her by buying tickets for you to take her to see the Cinderella revival during your stay; one of her most desired shows and the first of four that you will see during your trip.<p>

Will is with your dad who called you four times after only an hour and a half in the city and you carried the tickets in your back pocket that got mailed to you last week and you were really excited to see her so excited because all she talks about is Laura Osnes's limited year as the star and how she watched the Julie Andrews version constantly with Ell growing up and how she always wanted to play Cinderella because she knew the songs front and back. You even surprised her with the tickets on your walk up Broadway and she was so happy when you did that she started to actually cry on the sidewalk in New York in front of the giant poster of Laura Osnes and Santino Fontana dancing at the ball.

It's a beautiful picture but it really has nothing on her.

You had the plan to take her breath away and ultimately show off how cool you could be when trying. You sort of failed at cooly surprising her but it helped level the playing field of embarrassment a lot matched with her tears.

(Instead of smoothly doing so, you awkwardly shoved the tickets from your pocket into your air while announcing that while you guys are there, you might as well go in like a total loser, but she still cried so whatever.)

You just kind of assume the show was amazing but you're not exactly sure because you spent most of the time watching Carmilla's eyes light up and her bounce in her seat and sing along and it was so cute. She's so cute. She looked like a kid in a candy store and she turned to you after nearly every song and scene to make sure that you were as engrossed as she was. You pretended to be but, honestly, if you were asked of her sister's names at gunpoint the result would most likely be your death.

After the show, Carmilla is dancing on the sidewalk beside you and it's kind of amazing because she seriously seems like she's trained for it and then you remember that she was her entire childhood and she pushed for it because she's dreamt about Broadway her entire life. You stayed and waited backstage and you got the stars to sign your playbook which was awesome, but now you guys are walking back towards the little loft her grandparents rented online for the week and she's singing to you.

"_Ten minutes ago, I saw you. I looked up when you came through the door_." She bows gracefully and reaches for your hand. You're tired, but you're fighting it because Carm is wide awake and beaming with joy. You take it and suddenly she tugs you close and you're dancing with her. "_My head started reeling, you gave me the feeling the room had no ceiling or floor."_

She has a gorgeous singing voice and you love moments when she sings to you because you swoon every time at your amazing best friend with her flawless voice and perfect smile and that look in her eyes that she's so happy in that moment.

"_Ten minutes ago, I met you. And we murmured our 'how do you do's. I wanted to ring out the bells and to fling out my arms and to sing out the news_;" She picks up the pace of your dance and you're dodging people on the street but no one seems to mind you two. "_I have found her, she's an angel, with the dust of the stars in her eyes. We are dancing, we are flying, and she's bringing me up to the skies._"

The words are reminding you of her and you'd sort of realized that you might have a crush on Carmilla weeks ago but it's not important because you don't want to ruin your friendship and stuff so you're just not going to do anything. Even though she sort of stops you from breathing and she makes you so happy and she's the most beautiful girl you've ever known, you stop yourself and that's great except your self control is wavering as she serenades you with your bodies pressed against each other as a result of you repressing your emotions every other second of every other day.

"_In the arms of my love, we're flying, over mountain and meadow and glen. And I like it so well that for all I can tell, I may never come down again._" Her voice is getting softer and you gulp because wow she's close and wow her voice is nice and she spins you before she closes the space between you even than before and just looks at you with this tiny smile. "_I may never come down to Earth again_."

In your defense, you can't stop yourself from kissing her. You try and try but you can't stop yourself and it's just a little peck and it's the corner of her mouth but you hit her lips and it's the most amazing kiss in the entire universe and you are radiating joy because you just gave your first kiss to Carmilla in front of a pizza shop that sells two slices for a dollar and it couldn't have been more perfect. She only smiles wider and so that's a good sign, obviously, (unless it isn't and she just doesn't know what to do) but you don't know so you try to talk to fill the silence. "I… um… Happy birthday, Carm."

Her hand stays tangled with yours and she puts it back at your sides. She starts to walk and her cheeks are an adorable pink while she nods. "Right. Happy birthday to me."

* * *

><p>The most offensive thing you're ever told in your entire life is by a theater student in Times Square during your trip to New York for your birthday. You had just raided the Disney Store and you were wearing a Cinderella crown and mumbling lyrics under your breath when a woman walked up to you and told you that you seem to be dressed in a tad too much black to be an appropriate Ella on Broadway.<p>

You had to stop yourself from fighting her.

(Laura stopped you from fighting her.)

"She's right," you groan. You're hanging off the bed that Laura is sitting on and your tiara has fallen to the floor. "I'll never play Ella."

"Oh, Carm…" Laura's voice sounds like she's smiling at you. "You'd be a wonderful Ella."

"Nope," you interject, "I'm not princess material evidently." You swing your body up and you find that you're face to face with her. That's been happening a lot lately and she sorta kissed you last night which you're refusing to question because that'll lead to complications, you're sure.

"C'mon, Carm. You're totally a princess." Laura leans towards the edge until she can touch the ground and picks up your tiara. You can't fight the tiny tugging of your lips as she places the accessory back on your head. "Even if you're not a princess to some lame girl in Times Square, you're always going to be my princess."

"Not even close. You're the princess here." If anyone is, it's obviously Laura. She's so sweet and caring and courageous and thoughtful and beautiful and graceful and everything a princess is. If you looked up the definition of an everyday princess, a picture of Laura and her shining smile would be in place. You don't even compare to her. She's wonderful and you can't even dream about being half as amazing as she is because it's not possible.

"Well, if I'm the princess then I guess that just makes you my prince then, huh?" You're going to disagree but she presses a quick kiss beside your ear before she climbs off the bed and towards the door.

The more you sit with the feeling of her lips on your cheek, the more you begin to think that you could handle being that.

* * *

><p>You're learning Hebrew for Carmilla, but it is totally not a big deal like Susan is making it seem to be. She's teasing you because she thinks that it's because you're in love with Carmilla, which you're totally not; you're just spending Hanukkah with her and her family this year and they speak Hebrew during this time of the year and you want to be included. You want to make the effort to learn about her traditions and family like she does with you on Christmas.<p>

Hanukkah is in two and a half months and you've already learned the basics, you're just polishing before you start to learn prayers that are said, which you do have an entire eighty-three days for. Besides, Carmilla knows six languages, not including the Russian that she's in the process of learning, and if she can learn Hebrew, Spanish, German, Dutch, and French all on top of the English in her short span of fourteen years on the Earth, you can learn minimal Hebrew for her in a few weeks.

"Shalom." _Hello_. You know how to greet, the most important part of pretty much every language. That's good. "Ani loh mevinah." _I don't understand_. Another phrase you will use constantly in this language and one that will come in handy. "Shmi Laura." _My name is Laura_. So far, you can greet, introduce yourself, and you can tell whomever it concerns that you have absolutely no clue what they are saying. You totally have this.

"Yediat safa ahat eina maspika." Another thing you have is a situation involving a very, very fluent Carmilla who just walked in on you talking to yourself in your bedroom and told you a sentence that you have no chance of deciphering. "At medaberet 'ivrit?"

Is Hebrew hot? Like, you've never really considered it attractive and you know that when Carmilla speaks in French it's like the stars are aligning to grace your ears with her voice, but this is a bit much. Should someone seriously get emotional about Hebrew? It's a very phlegmy language. Do you find phlegm hot? What is wrong with you?

"I, uh…Ani loh mevinah?" Solid.

God, did you just tell yourself solid?

Wait, but Carmilla's smiling again.

Yeah.

Solid.

* * *

><p>You have trophies lining the walls of the room three doors down from yours on the other side of the corridor with your name etched gracefully into the plaques below the towering figurines. Sometimes you find yourself wandering around them; the tips of your finger gliding across the engravings. You watch each rise and fall like the effortless taps of your pads will cause an earthquake and you await complete and utter destruction to absorb the atmosphere around you. It reminds you of your father's death.<p>

He came to each of your recitals. Every performance he was placed in the fourth row, twenty-second from the aisle exactly, he made sure of it because he said it was the best seat in the house, and he clapped as if you were Mozart with roses in his lap and Will's smile on his face. He danced with you after your classes and rehearsals like he could actually dance and if it wasn't for those late night runs from the dance studio to the frozen yogurt shop down that street to fill your stomach after a night of laughter and twirls, those trophies wouldn't be under your touch.

He called you his belle danseuse. Beautiful dancer.

You miss him.

You were five when Will was born and your father told you that in the hospital there was a creature being born that would terrorize the house. It would scream and cry and stink and throw and when you told him that the monster in the hospital needed to be shown love to change, his eyes glistened with love and hope and he told you, "Mon belle danseuse, you are quite too lovely for this world. Don't let it change you."

He used to hold your hand when you walked down the street and he gave you extra cherries on sundaes and he melted chocolate onto your fruit when your mother wasn't home to scold him. He danced with you and he sang with you and he helped you choose the costumes you wore and the movies you watched and he raised you. Until the point of him leaving this world; he raised you.

He left you.

You miss him.

When you are seven, he is dead. Will is only crawling and your mother is still laughing and your father pulls a trigger to the gun pressed to his temple while you are at tap lessons and your brother is watching you on your mother's lap. She used to come to each one back then.

When your class is over, you are the first to run in and you race to your father's office like there is fire behind you but he doesn't seem to be there. You call out for him and you step closer and you see blood, so much blood. The next sight is a hand with a ring and then you finally can see him. You see him exposed and you see two envelopes on his desk with your name and Will's and you grab them and tuck them into your shirt before anyone else can have them. You were selfish then as you are now.

Your mother calls him selfish, too. She tells you that you are just like him; selfish and disappointing. She tells you that she waits for the day that you leave her and Will because you will. It's in your blood. You are destined to abandon them because you are inconsiderate.

She stopped laughing after he died.

She misses him, too.

You think about being selfish when you see the envelopes sitting in your bookshelf between photo albums that no one has touched in years. When you pick yours up, you can appreciate the detail. In beautiful cursive is your name- it is taking up only enough space for your thumb to cover. When you flip it around, the back tells you to open the note when you need answers.

You don't find that you ever seek answers from him. You're not sure whether it's because you're scared he won't have them or if it's because you don't deserve the answers from him.

Maybe it's both.

You still miss him.

Will doesn't remember your father at all. When your touch reaches his accomplishments, they are not there because your father supported him. Your mother didn't go to many of his events or any lessons. She didn't sit on the side and smile when he smiled at her. Your father didn't take Will to get a treat. You stole that from him. You took away what he could've had.

When Will is six, you take him to a piano concert. It's for a performing arts school that travels the country to give shows. He loves it and he tells you that he can't wait to perform on stage for such a crowd one day. He smiles your father's smile and he tells you that you picked perfect places to sit. You tell him that he was sitting twenty-two in from the aisle in the fourth row. He responds that that must be the best seat in the house.

He doesn't exactly know it, but it's true;

He misses him the most.

* * *

><p>Carmilla's mom doesn't come to your eighth grade graduation. She's really upset about it, but she tries to hide it and she makes excuses for her.<p>

"She's got better things to do than watch me walk across a stage for some irrelevant ceremony solely created for parents who won't see their children repeat this scene at the end of high school."

"Carm, she should've come. This is exciting. You're getting awards."

"They don't even matter. They don't mean anything. We're only children; they're worthless before high school."

"Carmilla, you're literally getting five. One for each of our main classes and art."

"Colleges don't even consider looking to the records of class before the ninth grade, if that."

She's difficult and stubborn and she's getting frickin' awards. You kinda wanna punch her, but you don't. You wouldn't. You'd never intentionally hurt her.

You almost do, though, because you literally have to shove her into the classroom to line up for your graduation. (Technically is a promotion ceremony, but graduation sounds more grown up.)

You also drag her towards the gymnasium by her wrist because she's refusing to cross the stage six times today when it doesn't even matter. Today is pointless in history and you have a high school career to worry about, Laura. You don't need to cross the stage, Laura. It's not a big deal, Laura.

_Laura, Laura, Laura._

You've never hated your name more.

She can probably tell because now _she's _dragging _you_ towards the gym and smiling towards you dad who is sitting with Will. (He picked him up early so that he could see the ceremony.) You want to keep frowning at her grumpy view on the day, but you can't help but smile when you see her smile. It's a curse. A horrible curse that will haunt you until the day that you die and probably then some.

* * *

><p>This one year, when you were nine, you thought that your mother came to your dance recital. It was the first one that she would've attended since your father had passed away and it remained the only one since that she would've attended throughout your dance career.<p>

You didn't think you were supposed to see her there. Her face was hidden and she was tucked in the back, but she wore these bright red gloves that your mother absolutely loved. They were some form of leather and the stitching was pristine. You would sit with those gloves and count each stitch, wondering how many you would need to make your mother love you that much. The answer was in the millions, if not billions. You'd need billions of stitches for your mother to spend time with you and you may be clumsy, but never clumsy enough.

Sometimes you wondered about death, too. How many stitches can you have before you're impossible to fix? How many slices and gashes need to cover you before the blood is drained beyond replaceable and your face is pale beyond recognition? You're fairly tiny and fair already, it wouldn't take much.

Sometimes you think that even if you have billions of stitches that she wouldn't spend time with you. You think of your recital and the red gloves that end up hugging Lucia and not you. They wrap around another little girl and you stand soundlessly on the stage as your friends receive flowers and chocolates and hugs and kisses.

You pretended to fall off the stage and you broke your arm after it got sliced open on a metal chair. When your dance instructor called your mother on the way to the hospital, she was told to leave you the bill and to drop you off at home when it is all taken care of. She had a meeting ten minutes later. She didn't have time for the hospital. She didn't have time for you.

Sixteen stitches in your left forearm and she still didn't have time for you.

* * *

><p>Carmilla often yells at you for the pictures that you take of her. In your defense, you were given a camera to capture the essence of art in this world and there is nothing that resembles the perfection of art rather than Carmilla.<p>

You like to take them when she's takes you on walks around the park during sunset. There's something about dusk and the way it lights up her features that just gets to you and you have to capture it in a photo. It's so beautiful. She's so beautiful. (You need to look up more words to describe her because you're starting to think beautiful way too much to be healthy.)

She's only really talks when you guys are alone and considering the path you take clears about half an hour before you bother get there, she never really stops when you're on these walks. It's not a typical conversation, either, it's always a _Carmilla_ conversation with big words and deep emotions and nostalgic memories seeping from inside to the open.

"My mother says that I'm not involved enough in school. I tried explaining to her that it's only two weeks into the year and nothing's going on yet, we're barely used to our schedules and the change going into high school, but she told me to stop talking back and that I should've joined a summer sport." Her shoulders are slumped and you can tell that she's overthought the comment. Carmilla tends to blame herself for a lot and she thinks that she makes a lot more mistakes than she does.

"Carmilla, the summer sports are arranged for the upperclassmen." You think that's the grown up word for older kids? You're not entirely sure but you've been trying to upgrade your vocabulary these days. It turns out it is because Carmilla shrugs in response.

"The freshman make it if they're good enough. She told me I was like him again. She said that I didn't do anything but think of myself." You don't like her mom very much. It's hard for you to imagine having a mom who isn't how yours was. You're used to mothers being kind and supportive. Your mother never called you selfish or ungrateful. She told you that you were beautiful and that she was proud of you. Carm never hears that from her mom.

"Well, do you want to get more involved?" If she wanted to do something, you'd do it with her. She shakes her head, though. "Well, then you don't have to, Carm."

"You don't understand. I do have to." She really doesn't. She's just bringing more to her plate every day and trying to please everyone besides herself. "I really need to try harder. Maybe if I join something she will come around more to see me in it and she'll see Will in his stuff, too."

Of course she's thinking of Will. You know that as soon as his name is said that there is no convincing her otherwise. "Well, then we can start looking for things to do on Monday."

She looks at you pretty confused and it makes you smile. "We?"

"Well, you're not the only one with that blind faith or whatever, Karnstein."

* * *

><p>In your school, photography students are required to have a camera, for obvious reasons. If they don't have their own, students are given cameras for loan and face good offers on those owned by the school for resale. They have Nokia cameras, Canon cameras, Kodak cameras, Panasonic cameras; basically every type. They have every type of camera in several editions, too, and you know this because you sat with Laura and you helped her pick out the camera sitting in her hands, facing you and shuttering while you glare straight into it.<p>

The two of you went to an art museum today so that she could find some inspiration, yet all she's done since she had you in sight was take pictures of you doing absolutely everything. You're surprised you didn't have to keep her from trailing you into the bathroom.

"Laura, is there a reason that you can't put your camera down or turned from me?" She rolls her eyes at you before biting her lip.

"Sorry, Carm, I'm actually only allowed to take pictures of you. I'm stuck on you. The button won't work unless you're in frame." She shrugs with her unapologetic explanation that you cannot believe is actually working. Are her eyes getting bigger? Her head tilting lower? God, she is playing you like Yahtzee and you're taking it. You're just letting her.

Your New Year's resolution should've been to find your strength opposed Laura Hollis instead of putting aside money each week to send Will to that music camp he saw online.

"I didn't pay eighteen dollars for you to photograph me all day." Technically, you paid thirty, but she feels bad when you spend a lot on her so you had to lower it a bit in her mind so that she would soundly come with you even after spending all her allowance money on memory cards.

"I didn't pay nothing to not capture your scrunched pouty face when you're all grumpy," she teases before taking another picture. You reach out and physically push the camera towards a painting. It has a garden painted on it which is quite possibly the most stereotypical piece she could catch, but still. It's better than nothing.

"Take pictures of the art, Laura. You are surrounded with works of art that we have permission to photograph for school."

She shakes her head and looks at you with a lopsided grin. She's frustrating and you can totally see that she's turning her body to oppose you with the lens again. "That's exactly what I'm doing." Laura snaps another picture and starts to turn to walk down the aisle of the exhibit. "You're my favorite work of art."

As she gets further and further, now actually taking photos of the walls covered in work, your legs follow and you get your own dopey smile to go with hers. You probably should just focus on that camp money because there is no strength opposing Laura Hollis.

* * *

><p>Susan tells you that she doesn't want to be called Susan anymore in homeroom today, which you think is pretty cool-<p>

Well.

_LaFontaine _told you today that _they _don't want to be called Susan anymore in homeroom today, which you think is cool because you want them to be comfortable and you want to respect who they are. You're glad that they're being true to themselves by asserting their preferences and pronouns. (You learned these phrases when you used your phone to look up the difference between gender and sex because you wanted to make sure you're informed for her. No, _them_. You want to be informed for _them_.)

They also cut their long hair, but you saw that coming after Lola tied it up so often. Well, Perry tied it up so often. LaFontaine was really nervous about correcting people so she decided that she'd go by her last name, too, to ease off some anxiety. They truly do everything together and it's amazing to see.

Would Carmilla go by her last name with you if you asked her to? Maybe. She did join that plate painting class with you at the park district that you talked her into (and she totally loved). And there was that sock puppet making seminar that you took her to. And that informational meeting at the library about pescetarianism. And there is that super awesome class next week on riding in the streets and the rules of the road for bikers that you learned about on that bike safety blog you follow that Carmilla totally needs because she rides her bike without the helmet constantly and it's dangerous. She really does a lot with you. Maybe you guys need new friends.

You consider it for a second but you don't really think you'd even want to not spend your time with her, though. So yeah, maybe not.

"I think it's smart to start with pushing it when freshman year is just starting. It's a clean slate. I'm still a little nervous to tell my parents, but I think that they'll be okay. I mean, they weren't upset about my hair like I thought that they would be which is totally awesome and they're alright with me and Perr." LaFontaine is totally talking and has been for the past few minutes which makes you feel bad because you were thinking about Carmilla. You only really think about Carmilla.

Is that a problem? Do you have a problem?

Honestly, Carmilla could be considered a disability because your thoughts of her keep you from functioning in everyday life.

Do they give out social security for disability to those in love?

Except that's not you because you're not in love, you just have this stupid crush and you're way too young to know what love is. Of course you don't love her. That's ridiculous.

Except you could totally see why someone would be in love with Carm because she's the sweetest, most beautiful girl you've ever known in your entire life and she's so funny and witty and she's got such a cute laugh and wow.

LaFontaine.

You're talking to LaFontaine.

"But I don't know, Laura. I'll probably text you later about it." They stand up, referring to something you have absolutely no clue about. "I have to run and meet Perry for study hall. I'll see ya." They give you a smile and you return it until they're out the door and you can drop the weight of being the worst friend on this entire planet to your conscious. You slam your head into your folded arms on the table. You're a terrible person.

"You okay, sunshine?"

You swear that Carmilla can sense when you think about her because she always appears when you do. Then again, she's always around. But you do always think of her. It's complicated. She's complicated.

"'m perfec'ly fi'e, t'ank 'ou fery muff."

"Laura, you're talking into a table. You're obviously not _perfec'ly fi'e_." She shoves her arm over her mouth to mimic you and it makes her laugh. She's such a dork. You'd actually question why you like her, but when you do that you get into that giant thing where you list everything that's great about her. Your mind can't handle that right now.

You look up and she's still laughing and wow, she's a loser. Wow, her laugh is pretty. Wow, her smile is nice. Wow, wow, wow. Carmilla is just... wow.

"Well, spaz, I'm going to head to lunch. Join me when you're done playing hide and go seek with yourself? I'll save you a seat." She moves closer and runs her hand over your head before she quickly packs your backpack up and takes it with her. "Just don't take too long so that we can get in line before the jocks and actually get food. If there's anything I've learned in our month here, it's that it is possible to hate high school boys more than middle school boys."

It then kind of occurs to you that you've hardly even mentioned any boys. You know that Carmilla does because she talks to boys.

You're in a library with tens of _high school _boys and you haven't even noticed until now.

You stand up and glance around, desperately seeking for someone to catch your eye. The only one that does is Carmilla. Of course. Stupid Carmilla and her stupid braided hair and her stupid smile she has when she notices that you're following and there's literally a football player right next to her but wow.

You pick up your pace and reach her side just in time for her to start talking about the equation she solved in Honors Advanced Algebra. She was in a sophomore class. That juniors took. Wow, she's so cool. She's so, so, so cool.

You decide that it's perfectly fine that you only notice her. High school boys are totally overrated, anyways.


	5. Ninth Grade

**Okay, so just a little memo that I will be updating every other Monday and Friday, or at least I plan to.**

**But other than that this chapter consists of the struggle of freshman year and tampons and it's a wreck they're wrecks**

* * *

><p>His name is Isaac and he takes you on a date during the third month of your freshman year of high school. He has honey blonde hair and his eyes are a delightful brown that light up when he talks about Edgar Allen Poe poems and the works of Shakespeare. He is a junior to your underclass status, but he never wavers when introducing you to his friends and brushes them with unfazed responses when they joke about your age. You appreciate that the most about him, you think.<p>

You watch him sometimes when he's laying with you in the grass; he takes you on picnics. You watch his eyes play against the sun. They remind you of Laura's when you go on walks and when she looks out the window. They're beautiful. The tips of your fingers reach out and tap his nose to tease. His face scrunches and he has this crooked smile that you know you've seen and you wonder if this could be love- if he could be love.

"You're adorable." It slips from your mouth before you can help it and you look at his features wondering how it feels like you've loved them for a long time already. You feel like you've loved him for a lifetime, but you've only been dating for two months and you don't know much about him. You know his name and you know his favorite movie yet you don't know where he was born or what he fears. You don't know his middle name or if he has sibling or if he fights with his parents. You only really feel like you love him when you notice the little quirks that he possesses like his sparkling eyes and his titled smile and if you were in love with everyone you knew that had sparkling eyes and tilted smiles then you'd be in love with Laura, which you're not.

"Nope, that would be you, my love." He also calls you these cute little pet names that would sound awful coming from anyone else. He's cute. You're lucky.

"No, no, that's you. Don't argue with me. I'm always right." You flash a grin and he hushes you with a kiss. You want to feel the jolt in your stomach that you felt when Laura sloppily pecked your lips, but you don't. You're trying to, you really are, but you just don't feel it. What's wrong with you?

He pulls back with a smile. His smile is so wide. Your chest aches as you widen your grin to match. "I love you, Carmilla."

Isaac is sweet. He is a sweet boy with a loving heart and a clean conscious. He holds doors for you and he kisses you softly. You are lucky to be loved by him. Don't be selfish.

His mouth tugs upward to the right and it reminds you of the way that Laura's pulls to the left. You stare at it and if you focus on it enough, it's almost like she's telling you this. She tells you that she loves you a lot and your response is never forced. You remind yourself to not be selfish when you're with her because you want to spend even more time with her. You don't try to make yourself feel that jolt with her. It's just there. She invented that jolt.

You purse your lips before nodding. You're picturing her. It's not fair to him.

You're selfish.

His crooked smile grows even and wide as you respond, "I love you, too."

* * *

><p>"Can you believe that Will is a fifth grader already?" Carm is standing in the living room with her hand on a picture frame. Your mouth tugs up as you step in behind her. In the photo, your mom is holding Will in her arms. Your dad is behind her with his grip hanging around you and Carmilla with flashing grins. You all are standing in front of the fire station and there's paint all over everyone because you'd just painted the windows for the Fourth of July.<p>

"I know, Carm. It's crazy." You wrap your arms around her from behind and you can feel her hands rest on yours. You try to ignore the warmth coursing through you and the smell of her shampoo. It's cherry and your weakness because you love cherry scented things. (Especially a cherry scented Carmilla.) "Our little boy is growing up so fast." You hope a joke will thin the air but you don't know why you make it because it's only thick around you.

She lets out a laugh that sounds like what you imagine Jesus opening up the pearly gates does and, wow, do you love her. "He really is." Carmilla turns under your arms and being this close to her face makes you dizzy. Your grip tightens but that backfires because she only gets closer. "Speaking of growing up fast, do you know what Saturday is?"

"The sixteenth?" It's a quick guess but it's not the one she's looking for. You can tell by how she shakes her head.

"It's also two other things, spaz." What other things? It's probably some gross couple thing she has with Isaac. What kind of name is Isaac anyway? A pretty dumb one, obviously. It's probably their anniversary or a date night or something gross and stupid.

"It's our four year friendship anniversary."

Oh. Right.

"And also it's that winter formal or whatever, but I was thinking that we could blow that off."

It's your first year of high school, Carmilla's first year with a boyfriend, and she's offering to blow off the big dance of the year for you guys with him to spend the day with you. She's giving up her first high school dance for you.

But it's probably not totally for you.

"But what about Isaac?" He's probably busy and so you're her second resort.

"I told him as soon as they told us the day of formal that I wasn't going to do anything with him on the sixteenth. It's our day, Laura."

Or you're totally her first choice and Isaac can take that because she'd rather spent the day with you. Not some dumb boy. Must really suck to be him.

"I was thinking that we could stay home and build forts, like we did on our first sleepover. Or well, you did. But now that we've had some practice together I thought that I could maybe help you." She almost seems nervous and it's really cute and she's still super close to you which isn't intimidating at all. "If you want. I mean, we don't have to do that. It was only an idea. We could also go to that dance which is why I wanted to tell you in time to buy tickets, but we don't have to."

Does she want to go to the dance with you? Is that what she's getting at? Or does she want to stay home? Or both? Does she not care? Does she care too much? You need answers and you have more than enough questions that you just need to ask if you could get them out.

"Together dance?"

Or that. You could say that.

She giggles a little and she nods a bit which eases your anxiety. She always does seem to relax you. She has some type of power. "Yes, together dance. If you wanted to go to the dance together then we could do that, but we don't have to. I mean, I'm sure you've already been asked."

You haven't, but that doesn't really matter because you wouldn't want to go with anyone but her.

"No, no, I want to go." You're pretty much choking out every word but she doesn't seem to notice which is great. "With you. I want to go with you to the dance."

How great would that be? You get to spend a night dancing and smiling and holding hands with Carmilla, the most extraordinary girl ever.

Her face brightens up and she pulls away from you now which makes you want to frown. The keyword is want because you can never really frown around her smile. "Perfect! I'll get our tickets then!" She lets out this noise that kind of sounds like that weird excited thing she lets out when she watches her favorite Broadway star win a Tony and then turns around to keep looking at pictures. Man, do you love her.

* * *

><p>Laura's best color is this off pink sort of shade that kind of is a mix between blush and salmon and she wears a dress entirely of it besides the golden accents covering the neckline. It's this light pink that's faded but also really deep and you've never really lacked adjectives before but you can't really describe it. It bothers you that you can't and it'd bother you more if it wasn't so distracting. t's gorgeous. It suits her well.<p>

Your dress is gold and it has a sash tied across your waist that matches her dress so you knew how beautiful the color was. You knew what you were walking into when you left to pick her up, but actually seeing her trip down the stairs in the heels she insisted on suffering through in that gown makes your breath flee from your lungs puts everything into perspective. Her hair is curled and pinned back and she has a little clip in it that matches your skirt and you guys look perfect together. You haven't even stepped beside her but you already know that you look perfect together.

You're so glad that you're going with her tonight. Honestly, you can't really think of anyone else you'd want to spend the night with.

Well, you suppose Isaac.

There's definitely Isaac.

Of course there is. You love him.

You think.

When he says that he does you, you say it back immediately, but that isn't really fair and you don't care because you're selfish. It always draws back to you being selfish.

Selfish, selfish, selfish.

You wonder if you'd even know that word if it wasn't for your mother. If you'd scold yourself for certain joys; if you'd cry at night if it weren't for her. You can't blame her, though. It's not her fault. It's yours.

"Oh, Carm, we don't need you getting into your head before we even leave." Laura swoops down like an angel to save you from your thoughts and when her fingers slide between yours, you smile. Isaac can never tell when you're upset like she can. She knows you best. She presses a kiss to your temple and twirls your body around before calling her dad to take a picture.

Laura calls you enticing four times before he arrives because she's decided that she uses beautiful too often. Her smile favors the left in the photos. Her eyes are excited and her nose bunches as she laughs. When you imagined going to dances in high school as a child, your mind always dove to clichés of boys in suits and roses on your wrist. You didn't imagine a stunning girl with pins in her hair telling you sweet things in your ear but you love it. You love her.

There's no thinking or maybes.

* * *

><p>You're not entirely sure what's more embarrassing: getting your period in Carmilla's pajama pants on her white sheets or the fact that she doesn't have a pad and is trying to teach you how to use a tampon using one of her own and an empty toilet paper roll.<p>

"Y'know, this wouldn't have even happened if you used pads." Of course she doesn't use pads, though. Stupid mature Carmilla and her stupid grown up tampons that she just shoves into her vagina or whatever. This is gross. Periods are gross.

"Laura, pay attention." She's insanely focused on this plastic tampon thing and she's having you hold the toilet paper roll to insert it to which is about as excruciating as it sounds. "Okay, so this toilet paper roll is your... um... lady bits."

You're laughing before you even realize it, but no one can really blame you. Who even says that?

Lady bits.

She means your vagina. You both know it by the way that her face is turning red and she's fumbling for words. There are few occasions when Carmilla is rendered illiterate and a blushing mess but when she is, it's absolutely brilliant.

"Laura..." She's groaning and her face is literally the color of all the blood that's flooding her cheeks and it's great. This is a beautiful moment. "Just hold the stupid tube so I can show you the stupid thing that goes in the place and... just do it." Her mumbling is adorable and you admire it as she yanks a little pole that connects to the plastic insert thingy that she named a few minutes ago out and shows you.

"Just like... you pull the rod to the applicator out so it's stuck." Ah, applicator. The plastic insert thingy called an applicator. "And then you like... you put the applicator in-but only to where the little handle is-" She slides it partially into the toilet paper roll before abruptly stopping. "And then you just push the rod and pull the plastic out, making sure you leave the actual tampon." It's a failed demonstration, but you figure that actually in motion and not in a hollow cardboard tube it works out pretty well.

She's grinning at the completed lesson and she hands you the tampon. You grab it before her face falls. "But don't use that one! It's open and touched and you don't want those germs...up in there." Her uncomfortable, awkward blushing expression is your new favorite. "I have new ones!" Carmilla crouches and picks up an entire box, forcing it at you quick enough to drop the entire thing and stare at the ground mortified that she managed to mess up that badly.

"I got this, Carm." You're trying to assure her before she drops to her knees and bangs her head against the sink trying to retrieve the earthbound tampons from their escape route. "Just close the door and I'll pick them up and put one in and be out in a jiff'."

Wow, you are a loser. You're glad she doesn't mind because as soon as you say that, she gives a tiny nod and turns towards the door. "Just like call my name if you need anything. I'll be right here. Like right outside the door. And I'll remind you to change it in approximately four hours to avoid toxic shock syndrome! That's this gross, really rare bacterial infection complication when you don't change it that could be life threatening, which I wouldn't want you to ever have to face. So I'll remind you! I can set alarms on our phones for it!"

You get that she's trying to help, but waiting for her to stop rambling long enough to actually get to the tampons is almost as uncomfortable as trying to understand her teaching session on inserting them, funny bits excluded.

"Okay, okay, cool," you cut in, slowly shutting the door with each passing second. "But if you don't stop rambling, Carm, the four hours will be up with us just standing here. I'll be right back."

She gives you quite possibly the most alarmingly precious scrunched up embarrassed grin that you've ever seen in your entire life before closing the door entirely. After it closes, it starts to sink in just how lucky you are to have her around to teach you this. Your mom can't really do it, you're never turning to your father for tampon advice, and anyone else would be excruciatingly awkward instead of forming the awkwardly funny little classroom that Carmilla turned her bathroom into. You make the plan to thank her as soon as you open the door.

* * *

><p>Feathers are the most disgusting bits of fabric that you've ever known for your entire life. They're tacky and flamboyant and you, honest to a god you're not even sure of, think that one can not ruin their lives more than when they plaster them across their wedding dress.<p>

"She's _joking_." You're staring at the screen while Lexie's mother tells Cindy that she wants feathers. "Oh, Laura, please end me now because it would be less painful than watching this episode. Her mother is not pushing for feathers." You throw your head back to break from the unreal scene displayed. Can you boycott an episode of Say Yes To The Dress: Atlanta? Like, not the entire show, but only the episodes involving feathers? "How much do you have to hate your child to tell her you want feathers on her wedding dress? Tell me this."

Laura's laugh eases your mind. She shakes her head and interlaces your hands to squeeze yours. "I know, Carm. I know." She sounds understanding, but you don't really think she quite gets it.

"Laura, she wants_ feathers_. On her _wedding dress_. _**Feathers**_." Your hand loses hers to grab a handful of popcorn. "I mean, that's a great costume accent for a production in a theater, but your wedding? Unbelievable."

"Carmilla, speaking with your mouthful is very unladylike." Laura pokes at your cheek with an exaggerated tone. "Shame on you."

Over the years, you've easily adjusted to being around her. You don't really watch your language when you're at her house or wear the most put together outfits. You can abbreviate and eat sloppily while you dance like fools and watch lame, cheesy movies together late at night. You don't have the responsibilities you normally do when you're in her house. Her dad is around all the time after taking work out of the picture because of her mom's death and, even though it's not the same, the house is still a safe haven for you and Will; Laura and her dad a safe haven.

You laugh as you begin to speak more obnoxiously. "Laura, she wants-"

"Ew, Carmilla! You just spit popcorn on my cheek!" Your laughter grows as she shrieks and wipes at her face. "It's not funny! Your spit is all over me!"

You're snickering now but her look makes your face fall. She lunges at you and is soon licking at your face like some type of animal.

"Is it still funny? Hm?" She asks between swipes. You wish you could reply but you're impulsively scrunching up your face at the feeling and smell of Laura's buttery spit covering your cheeks.

You're torn between leading the teasing on by agreeing and shoving her off in a disgusted matter when her tongue hits the edge of your lip and you both freeze. She's pressed against you and she withdraws her tongue while managing to create no further space between you.

You want to kiss her. It hits you rather abruptly but you know that you want to kiss her. She's so close and she's so beautiful and if you could just move a few centimeters closer then you'd be kissing Laura.

Fuck, you want to kiss Laura.

You really shouldn't because you're not like gay or anything. You're not even sure if your mother would let you be gay. Does your sexuality need permission? Should you ask her? Does one ask permission to be a homosexual or does it just sort of happen?

You have a boyfriend. You're obviously not gay. What would the harm in kissing Laura even be? Just a quick kiss. Nothing more.

You're considering a small peck to her lips when she coughs and leans back. She giggles and your eyes follow her mouth. You really want to kiss her. "Well, that certainly shut you up."

She's laughing and you're panicking because you really, really want to kiss your best friend. You want to kiss her and she's giggling at you like this is a game when it's not so you act impulsively.

And by acting impulsively, you totally just shoved Laura off of your lap at full force causing her to slam to the ground. She pouts at you and all you want to do is pick her back up and do what you're now refusing to even think because it needs to go away. You should text Isaac. You haven't talked to him all day.

Fuck.

* * *

><p>Carmilla has punched someone square in the jaw for you only three times in your lifetime.<p>

The first was the summer in between fifth and sixth grade. You had a one piece bathing suit that was blue with bubbles scattered around it, the keyword being one piece. Every other girl in the existence of the world apparently had a two piece picked out for the pool that day and it wasn't enough that you were way shorter than everyone else, you had to also have the baby swimsuit at the pool. Carmilla popped Gabrielle Winden right between her eyes and broke her when she saw you cry.

Well, she probably saw the scene and wanted justice or whatever for all bullied girls, not just you, but still.

The second incident was the middle school cafeteria during what you refer to as the "When To Cry Over Spilled Milk Incident", or WTCOSMI for short. An entire lunchroom saw your bra that day.

An entire lunchroom also saw Zeke Clemens run to the nurse with blood dripping from his lip for messing with you for it.

The third and most recent swing is given at Robert Smul-something's party on a Saturday night. You don't know him. He's some popular senior jock that probably sees you as a fleck of dust in comparison. You're only going because you promised Carm who promised Isaac who promised his cousin, party host Robert, that he would bring the non sports oriented portion of the school so that his party would be packed to campaign for Prom court.

You're sitting in the corner with a cup that some guy handed you. You're told it's lemonade but you don't really know if you can trust it so you wait for Carmilla to bring you a drink and you set the other one on the ground under your chair.

"Having fun, cupcake?" She looks absolutely gorgeous. She wore heeled boots tonight and her eyeliner is thick and her legs are like a billion miles long because she has this swishy kind of short skirt, for Isaac no doubt. If you had a boyfriend, you'd want to dress really super hot for him so that you can kiss his gross guy mouth and he can put his greasy, gigantic monkey hands on your really nice body that is literally perfect with your pale skin and your dark features and pretty face and maybe you're not talking about you anymore, wait.

You can't really help it. Carm looks at least seventeen. You could pass for fifteen in bad lighting and you can't even walk in flat shoes, let alone heels. Plus, if you ever wore a sheer shirt like she is you would probably combust of your insecurities. Jesus Christ, Isaac is lucky.

"I guess," you shrug. You kind of wanna go home, and you wonder if you could sneak out whenever she decides to go to Isaac's side. She hasn't been apart from you since Isaac picked you up.

"Oh." Carmilla purses her lips. She looks like she's considering something before she excuses herself and tells you not to move because she will be right back. It makes you feel a bit younger than you already do, but that's kind of normal with her after the years.

You watch her walk away, but you don't try to follow her with your eyes; you just kinda do. You always kinda do with her. There's no way not to stare at her. You're gaze trails her until she slips into the kitchen and you're left alone again.

This little crush on her is concerning because she has a boyfriend. You're pretty sure that you guys almost kissed the other night and you're also a tiny bit sure that she wanted to but you can't ever ask because of she didn't then you're out of a best friend and any embarrassment deficiency you could pray for. She's probably off kissing her boyfriend right now.

Maybe you should get a boyfriend.

You think about boys for like negative two seconds before deciding that's an awful idea.

Maybe you should get a girlfriend.

Girls are cute. You could totally be about dating one. Maybe even loving one. Maybe marrying one. Maybe finding one that will make you picture her and not Carmilla in those scenarios.

"Hey, sweetheart. You look a bit lonely, don'tchya?" This boy is older; you know him from your lunch period. He hangs around the seniors and from the look of his beard, it's not his first year with them. He smells like liquor and that makes your stomach feel sick.

"Oh, no! I am indeed not lonely one teeny bit! But showing general concern for another's is very admirable and I will be sure to thank you once you are sober enough to acknowledge it." You scoot your chair back a bit, but he only gets closer.

"I can think of a way that you could thank me right now..." Your arm hooks around to the back pocket of your jeans where your keychain bear spray is residing. You're really glad you took those seminars on predators last summer at the library. You're feeling the top of the tiny cylinder before you hear a familiar voice.

"Hey, shithead."

And there goes the evidence of the third time that Carmilla has ever punched someone directly in the face for you; a drunken teenage boy balled up on the living room floor of a party, cradling his face while everyone else seems to ignore him.

"C'mon, I just had to go tell Isaac that we were leaving," she tells you. Carmilla begins to pull her out and you can't hide the triumphant smile you have because maybe you're petty and maybe you can see Isaac watching you guys leave.

Maybe.

* * *

><p>Isaac is holding flowers when you open the door for him and it makes you feel guilty for wanting to kiss Laura. He's having dinner with you and Will, but he's not that great with him. Well, he's not as good as Laura but you really shouldn't compare them.<p>

(That doesn't stop you.)

"Hello, my love." He walks in and kisses you and there's no... spark. It sounds cliché and it sounds so teenage-esque, but it's true. He's kissing you and it feels like nothing and it almost makes you want to kiss her more. If she has that spark when you're not kissing, what could it be when you are?

Probably better than this.

It's not that Isaac isn't great. He is. He's a perfect boyfriend. He buys you flowers and he asks you about your day and he tries so hard to get along with your friends and you family. He goes to see you in musicals and plays and he cheers, you know he does, but you never even notice him. You're greedy. You don't deserve him to love you.

He does, though. He loves you so much. He tells you when he stares at you and you look into his eyes and see that it's true. You can actually see how much he loves you and it's painful. It strains you to breathe when you look because he's just so enticed with you.

He sees a future with you on top of it all. He tells you that he loves you and he can see himself with you for years. He calls you beautiful and he kisses you softly and he's so great. He takes care of you when your sick and he drives you and Will to the store and to appointments and he's just so, so great. You're so wrapped up in yourself that you can't even tell him how selfish you are. You don't deserve him. Why are you messing this up?

"Babe, are you alright?" He's turned to you and you don't even remember serving dinner but you are all seated and the boys are eating; Your boys. They are trying to spend time with you and you still can't focus on anything but yourself.

"Yeah, I am. Sorry, I'm just thinking about school and such." You give him a tight lipped smile and he accepts it.

Laura never accepts that. She always shakes her head and rolls her eyes in such a childish way that you laugh at her melodramatic antics. She reminds you that she won't force you to talk, but she also won't accept your deceitful lies. "Best friends for going on five years and this is what I get? The pain of betrayal," she moans as she drapes herself across whatever she's sitting on or standing near. Even thinking about it makes you miss her. You always miss her when you're not together.

You don't necessarily miss Isaac when you're apart.

"No, the coolest part in the Nether is playing survival and not dying within like forty second, Isaac," Will is arguing about his games, of course. All he does is talk about Minecraft nowadays and you both literally spent forty consecutive hours playing it like two weeks ago. It was awesome.

"No, my friend. The End is the best." Isaac is shaking his head. He's cute. He's smiling lopsided again and his eyes are bright and full of love. He's full of love and he's sharing it with you and Will, which is more than you could ask of someone.

You want to love him back.

* * *

><p>You tell Carmilla to break up with Isaac, and she literally does it right away.<p>

You don't say it because you like her or anything, you swear. You tell her as her best friend giving honest advice. You just also happen to really like her and stuff. It's nothing towards him.

Plus, she told you that she doesn't love him. He's so in love with her and she said she's not even sure about him and she feels bad and selfish. You bet that he doesn't even know her insecurities. He probably doesn't even get how she blames herself for too much and how she's way too good for this crappy world. He probably doesn't even know anything because he's a dumb boy.

Basically, she calls you and tells you this and you tell her not to lead him on. It's a solid response. You tell her that it'd probably be better for everyone if you break up. That's a solid piece of advice. It's credible

You're credible.

And now you have a super single best friend who's really pretty and you can now not feel super guilty for wanting to kiss because she does not have a boyfriend. You imagine that if '!' was a person that they'd look like your smile right now.

She's coming over with Will because she just broke up with Isaac after their dinner and he's even dropping her off. That must really suck. You wouldn't know.

Okay, so maybe you're taking things a little far but you have been waiting the entire school year for this and now summers approaching with a super single Carmilla by your side. This is great.

Well, for you. She's probably crushed, though. She hates hurting people. She hates disappointing them.

Carmilla is the sweetest girl you've ever known and this is probably destroying her. You hope she doesn't cry. Carmilla crying is the most heart wrenching sight and sound ever known to mankind. You need to run to the kitchen to make sure you have her favorite snacks and soda. You also need to grab the Kleenex from the bathroom and put it by your bed. It kind of dawns on you how upset she sounded on the phone. She called while Isaac and Will were playing video games and her voice broke twice.

She's obviously been beating herself up about this for a while. You know her and you know how her mind works; she's been wrecked for months over the fact that she's not in love with him.

She shows up and she is crying as soon as she walks in. You hold her for a few seconds and that's all it takes for the whole winning mindset you'd adopted to flee and your heart is twisting in all sorts of knots against her. She sobs to you about how she doesn't want him disappointed in her and how selfish she was for breaking up with him. She should be happy that someone as wonderful as him loves her. She should've held on to it. She should be happy that anyone loves her.

You think that this is almost worse than being heartbroken over a love because then at least she has him as reasoning. This is all her. This is entirely Carmilla upset over herself. It's not even about Isaac. It's the lies her mom fed her twisting around her to make her feel guilty and unloved. Carm believes everything she was told by her and she's brainwashed to thinking that she's less than what she is. You wish she could see herself how you see her.

It takes you forty-five minutes to untangle her train of thought from her own mind.

After you do, you guys have movies playing and she lays her head on your lap so that you can play with her hair.

"I love you, Laura Hollis, more than you will ever know," she says softly and you wonder if more than you'll ever know is enough for everything you want with her.


	6. 10th Grade

**haha funny story things I have done in the past two weeks**

**-cut off all my hair which is v anxiety inducing for me**  
><strong>-got braces<strong>  
><strong>-got a molar extracted<strong>  
><strong>-dropped out of school<strong>  
><strong>-started studying for my GED<strong>  
><strong>-been in pain like nonstop<strong>

**things I haven't done in the past two weeks**

**-kept up with updates for this fic so i apologize it's just been a v busy few weeks srry**

**as always, pls spread word of this fic to your friends at hit me up on tumblr (that-fangirling-teenager) w any comments or concerns or plans to cry over these little cuntnuggets in love**

* * *

><p>Carmilla is quite possibly the only fearless person that you know. She jumps from high points and she wears whatever she wants and you're thinking about this because she is currently holding a spider to her face and walking across your bedroom.<p>

"Hey, my little love," she smiles to the terrifying little pest in her palm,"I just need to take you right out that window. The missus is a little wimpy, I'm afraid." You whip your pillow at her and she laughs. She may be fearless, but she's also kind of annoying.

The spider moves in her grasp and you can see it which is scary. Spiders are the most petrifying creatures to ever exist in this galaxy and Carmilla is talking to this thing like it's a baby. She's so weird.

"Aren't you a pretty color?" She opens your window with one hand while the other holds her new friend. Her voice lowers like she thinks that you won't be able to hear her. "You sort of remind me of said certain missus and her gorgeous eyes, little man."

Your mouth pulls up because you can hear her and you go back to thinking about how fearless she is. Carmilla never backs down from anyone. She never lets anyone tell her what to do or how to do it. For someone who's only like two inches taller than you, she seems so much bigger and older and smarter and wiser. You admire her for it; for how finely she carries herself. You admire how she fights for what she loves and you're so glad that it includes you. You look up to her.

She's truly pulchritudinous.

(The mission of not using beautiful is actually close to impossible so shout out to .)

"It's alright, you're safe now, Robin."

"I am not Robin, Carmilla. I am Batman." You've had this argument before. You refuse to be the sidekick. When you were younger and you played heroes with your neighbor Andrew, he never let you be a hero so you made your own super costume and used your powers of wooden spoons for hands to slap him until his lip and nose were bleeding and his parents made him move away. She totally knows about it, too. You told her about it the last time she made fruit salad with said spoons.

Her look spreads to your bed and pauses towards your pillows. "There's a spider on your bed."

You know that she's lying. You know that she's messing with you. That doesn't stop the phantom crawling all over your arms. The feeling of legs cover your own and you last about twenty seconds before you kick your blankets in a panic and slam your back against your headboard trying to escape. Carmilla's cackle pulls the terror from you as she plops herself next to you on your bed and resumes the book she started earlier.

So maybe she's annoying and also kind of fearless.

Carmilla looks to you and possesses a look of teasing enthusiasm. "Holy arachnids, Batman! That little bugger there sure scared the jeebies out of you! How shall we continue our crime fighting adventures with you pressed up against this bed?" You glare at her but she goes back to her book with a cocky little smirk that you kinda wanna kiss off of her, but that's not the point... If there even is a point.

"I'm sure the city feels safe in your hands, so long as there's only two and not eight."

There is a point. She's definitely annoying.

"You are an asshole, did you know that?" She doesn't even look up from the page she's on when she bashfully swats at you. "I can't believe I had the nerve to think of you as fearless."

Carmilla has many laughs. Your least favorite is the bitter chuckle she gets right before she makes a mean comment towards herself; the one she has right now. "You think I'm fearless? Do you know me at all?"

She doesn't think enough of herself. You haven't known her to think of her worth as much more than a brick sitting beside a road since you became friends back in the day. She tries, but somehow her mind always falls short. "Yes," you say firmly,"I do know you, Carmilla." She searches your eyes for an answer to a question that you don't know before shaking her head a bit. "You are fearless. You're anxious and broody and annoying and kind of a dick, but you're fearless, no less."

"Oh, how sweet. Butter my biscuits and color me blush, Batman." Her hand slams to her chest dramatically.

You're right about this. If you're sure of anything, it is definitely Carmilla. "Nobody is as frustrating as you, either. Name one fear that you have, Carm. An actual fear."

"Oh, Laura," she smiles softly, moving closer to you on the bed. She's staring at you like she knows a secret which is impossible because you guys don't have secrets. You tell each other everything. Well... besides that kissing stuff and the sorta wanting to really date her but that will pass and it's not important. You need to have patience.

"Always the clueless one." You're going to get offended but she's getting dangerously close and her hand is wandering over you and up your thigh- holy crap.

"W-Well..." Stuttering. Smooth, Hollis. Real smooth. You can recover from this. "I just don't think you have very fears, Carmilla." You forgot to say 'many'. Very many fears.

"I fear losing you over most other things, sweetheart." Her fingers are pressed against the top of your thigh and you are seriously going to faint if she keeps this up because** wow**.

"And I also fear that you are too oblivious for your own good." You think that her hand is going to go up your shorts, but it closes and balls against your skin. She retracts it and presses a kiss to your temple. You almost subconsciously follow her but patience. You need patience.

"Now don't shit yourself..." You were probably going to if her hand didn't stop, but you also really didn't want it to so you're torn. You want her in the most ways you ever have and she just ran her hand up your leg. It felt so nice that you could cry and you think you're going to cry until Carmilla shoves her hand towards your face and opens her fist.

* * *

><p>Will is being incarcerated for possession of drugs. You get driven to the police station by Laura's father and he is the last one remaining with the officer. Kirsch has left, the young girls he was with are gone, and the young man who was dealing is in a holding cell. They tell you that they saw Will standing with the girls and Kirsch when the man walked over and the patrolling officer at the middle school brought them all in; he isn't in much trouble. It is a manner that can be dealt with at home and you sigh before your little brother runs into your arms and you hold him.<p>

When you hold Will, it reminds you of the years when your mother started leaving more and more. It was gradual, but steady. One weekend, five days, an entire week, two entire weeks; it built up and up until she was gone for several weeks at once. He would cry after she walked out the door and he'd tell you that he was afraid he would misbehave and she wouldn't want to come home at all anymore. He knows the chances of his fears as he stands in this station.

"It most certainly will, but where can I sign to take him home?" The man asks you your age and you're scared to tell him the truth, but you have to. You know that there is a slim chance that they're releasing Will to his fifteen year old sister, and that they can actually check so you're in a corner. "I'm fifteen, sir, going on sixteen. Innocent and naive." You hope the joke will ease the rules, but he shakes his head in response.

"Sorry, but we need his legal guardian to sign for him before he can be released."

"But my mother isn't in town currently. I'm in charge of him."

"And when will your mother return."

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

What do you tell him? How do you discreetly say that you have no fucking clue and you haven't seen your mother in two and a half weeks? "Um, tonight! And we're set to decorate the house for her arrival, meaning it'd be silly to keep him here all day."

Quick on your feet, if you have nothing else.

"I guess we'll just have to keep him here until tonight then. Feel free to sit with him, or to run back home by yourself and bring your mother here when she arrives." This man dismisses you by sitting at his desk and opening a folder.

Will is still crying in your arms when you feel Laura pull him from you and softly whisper in your ear. You don't even remember her getting out of the car with you, but then again you barely remember getting in the car or anything after that phone call. "Carm, go call her," she tells you.

You know better than to try to work around the police. Laura's father has always told you to run to the fire station or to call him in an emergency. Most police work is corrupt with selfish motives, he learned it first hand. He wanted you protected and he wanted you prepared.

You're terrified when you dial your mother because she hates when you call her on business trips. She tends to hate when you call her in general, honestly.

"Bonjour, ma fille!" she answers and you can tell she's with a group of people. She's in France, evidently, and she always answers in that faux excited tone while at parties. "Excusez-moi," she tells her guests before you hear the background conversation dull.

"Bonjour, maman," you say in hopes that she isn't too upset with you.

"Carmilla, you know better than to bother me while I am working. Can you no longer understand the simple instructions I leave you? Must I dumb them down for you?" Hope is a silly thing to have, you think.

"I'm sorry, mother, it's just that-"

"It's just that you can't stand on your own for the limited times I am away to provide for you, isn't it? How do you plan on surviving as an adult?"

When she says this it makes you think of the times that you don't plan on surviving and that scares you. The inevitable plan of not planning ahead you face scares you.

"Mother, I don't have another choice. I'm sorry." You can't cry. This isn't about you, it's about Will. Don't make it about yourself.

"And here comes the dramatic episode. What is it you need?" She sounds angry. You almost don't want to tell her but your eyes meet the sight of Will crying into Laura's chest and you know you have to.

"Mother, Will is in trouble. We need you home immediately." She lets out a long sigh and it burns the air filtering through your lungs. "He's in trouble with the police and they refuse to let me take him home myself."

"The police? I trust you with him for a few weeks and you've managed to land him in jail?"

"I wasn't with him-"

"Of course you weren't. Can you do anything right? Now I'll need to leave this dinner to find a plane for a ride to pick you up because you can't focus on your younger brother long enough to keep track of him."

You really should've been there. You should've known where he was. He told you that he was hanging out with Kirsch, and you allowed it without second thought. You told him that you expected them both at noon for lunch and not to stray too far in the town if they spend the day out.

"I'm sorry, maman, I was distracted-"

"Of course you were! With that no good cockroach of a girl that consumes all of your time and energy, I assume. I hope she was worth your little brother's incident, Carmilla."

You don't like it very much when your mother speaks your name. It sounds like she's spitting it because she's forced to. It sounds like it is dirty when she addresses you. She's also always angry with you. She makes you sound like you are filthy. Like you are tainted. Like you are a mistake.

Well, you are a mistake.

You remember before your father's death when she spent time with you; asked you to run errands with her, watch plays with her, eat dinner with her, almost anything. You were her baby girl as much as you were your father's and you were loved. You remember a time where you were loved and you hadn't done wrong. You were only a child who was not selfish or disappointing to both of your parents. You were a child who didn't realize the truths of this world. You miss it.

"I will be there around six. Do me a favor and resist causing any more problems. I can't seem to leave you with anything. That gives you roughly eight hours to think about your actions and the consequences of them."

The line goes dead.

Your father once told you that you were a beautiful child with eyes of hope and fearless optimism. He told you that you, his belle danseuse, were what this world needed to go around. If you had faith, it would take you to your dreams.

All you've had is faith that you could take care of Will correctly. You believed that you could love and support him. You felt that you could keep him safe. You could remind him that he is loved and cherished and that he would always be protected with you. You had faith that you could do this and now you're looking at your crying little brother and you know deep inside that faith is quite possibly even a sillier thing to possess than hope.

* * *

><p>Carmilla's mom is in town for two weeks. You thought that she'd be excited because her mom is almost never home for two entire weeks at a time, but she barely talks and she doesn't leave her house for anything during the period. When you see her at school, she looks very sad and like she's dreading going home. She also declines all your invitations to come to your place and so that decides it. You need to make your move. You can't just let your best friend suffer through her rough patch alone, right? It's been almost two weeks and she's barely made any bad puns; you <em>have<em> to come over. There's no choice involved.

On the thirteenth night of her mom's stay, you show up at the Karnstein household's front door at promptly three forty-five. Her mom answers and you smile wide because she is so beautiful and she reminds you of Carmilla.

"Hello there, Ms. Karnstein!" You need to play it down because you don't want to seem so eager, though, so you clear your throat. "I was wondering if I could pop in and see Carm for a little bit?" Was that too casual? Was it disrespectful? How do you talk to adults that are really formal? "Ma'am! For a little bit, ma'am?"

"Carm, hm?" Her mom gets this smile on her face that doesn't settle right with you and moves aside. Even at fifteen, you're barely to the height of her chest and so you are truly grateful that she shifts and let's you through. "Carmilla is in her room right now with her virtual piano lessons. I'm sure you're aware of where it is."

"Yes, ma'am! Thank you, ma'am!" You're in and that's the best news ever because her mom is intimidating. She must be different around kids because you've only really met her like twice and that was very brief at big gatherings. She's probably a lot better just one on one with Will and Carm.

You race to Carmilla's room and barge in but you wish you hadn't because the look on Carmilla's eyes is the most fearful you've ever seen her. You must've startled her because what could she possibly even be scared of? Her hands also slammed on the keyboard and she jumped at the sound.

"Laura? What are you doing here?" You've never heard her speak to you so harshly before. You don't like it. "Laura, my mother is here. You need to leave."

"I know she's here, silly. She let me in!" You're sure that once she realizes that you were let in by her mom that it's totally fine. She can calm down. "She told me I could see you."

Her face looks even more pale than usual now and you're seriously concerned. Why is she acting this way? Carmilla has never really gotten into the details with her mom before besides her never being there and sometimes she calls her selfish and so you don't really know why she's freaking out. Her relationship with her mom can't be _that_ bad, can it? You're aware that it's not the greatest but Carm hasn't really mentioned that her mom has said much to her lately and she doesn't seem like it's been that bad. She'd definitely tell you if her mom said bad things to her that made her sad, wouldn't she?

"Laura, I really need to do my lessons. I don't have time for you to come and try to foolishly play around." She's straightening her back like she used to do at your house when you first became friends and it's kind of upsetting. You're trying to hide it.

"Oh...Well, then I can just sit with you. Maybe you could teach me a thing or two?" You plop yourself into the seat beside her before she can refuse. You've never really had any musical experience and Carmilla is so talented. It'd be fun to learn from her.

"Laura..." You nudge her side a little and stick out your hands for her to help you. She gives you that smile that she gets when she's about to give in and so you nudge her again. "I hate you."

Her hands mold over yours and your eyes watch your hands in amazement as she immediately starts a melody. It's beautiful and it reminds you of the night you danced on the sidewalks in New York. You're playing- well, _she's_ playing with _your_ hands a beautiful song that your heart is beating to when you fully kiss her for the first time.

Again, you totally can't help yourself when you do it. Her face is right there and she looks so beautiful when she's playing-

No, not beautiful.

_Bewitching._

You turn to her to tell her how wonderful the song is and you expect her eyes to be focused on the keys, but they're not. They're looking at you and they're so bright and happy. She looks at you how the love feels in your heart and you lean forward to connect your lips and it feels like the sun just exploded in the room because all you see and feel is light. You shut your eyes but it doesn't make a difference because she's kissing you back and this is what love is. This is how love feels.

Holy fishsticks, you love Carmilla.

You kiss and you kiss and all you want to know is this feeling. It's awkward and your back hurts from your twisted position and her hands are now only loosely over yours on the instrument slowly closing off one long clashing harmony of notes that were slammed when you finally did it.

It settles in that you've waited for practically years to kiss Carmilla and now that you finally did it, you see that it's been more than worth the wait. You're not sure anything that will come from it but in the second it's wonderful just the way it is.

Well, until you need to breathe, and then you guys pull away and her mouth sort of smirks and it's so flippin' cute. She's so flippin' cute.

"Well, sunshine, I take it that you have taken quite the liking to the art of keyboard playing, hm?" You can really only get out a giggle in response and you must be like four hundred shades of red right now like a total loser, but holy flapjacks, you just kissed Carmilla.

You full on just kissed Carmilla.

Carmilla.

Your best friend.

Your lips touched hers.

….And she touched hers back!

"Aha! You kissed me! Well… you kissed me back! You like me, too!" You jump up and point at her because you're not the only one who's been struggling with this! It's also been Carmilla! She likes you! She kissed you! "I have proof! My lips are evidence, Carmilla! You like me! Ha!"

She starts laughing and begins to stand but you can't even see or hear her over her being a lame-o knucklehead with a super big crush on you. "You like me! You kissed me back! You have a loser crush, you big loser!"

"I'm the loser?" You're not sure why she has that tone or why she looks so amused, but she totally is because you never have anything to hold over her. She never talks about crushes or anything with you! She made fun of you for pretending to kiss your stupid poster of that super hot Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader that you stole from your dad like _one time_ and you didn't hear the end of it for weeks and now- oh, boy- _now_ do you have something to hold over her!

"Yes! You! With your big fat crush on me!" She totally like basically loves you probably and that's why she kissed you. She's totally been crushin' on you for a while now. "You're so lame with your big loser crush on me!"

"Laura, you kissed me."

Oh. Right.

"I was simply trying to teach you a song and you turned and kissed me, Hollis."

And she doesn't have to bring your name in. What a dipnugget. She steps closer to you when she speaks. "Well…" You really shouldn't mumble, but it just happens, "I don't even care or whatever. It's not even like a situation or anything… It's like totally cool or chill or whatevs." Oh, god, who says 'whatevs'? Not you, that's who.

"I just happen to think that you may be the one with a big fat crush." She's smiling really slickly and it's making your heart pound really fast as she's getting approaching you to be face to face. "You're the one who kissed me, Laura…" Oh dear lord, she used your name. She said your name. You're effed. You're completely flippin' effed! "I'm just the one who enjoyed it."

_"Oh."_

"But it's about four thirty and Mother will be expecting me down to review the lessons I've learned today. I wouldn't want to keep her waiting."

Okay, but who just says stuff like that and then walks out? You don't just do that. That's not a thing people are allowed to do. You should be furious, shouldn't you?

Well, you probably should be, but you just kind of watch her walk away and the way her body moves and her hair bounces and she's just so elegant- holy wow.

You can be mad at her tomorrow or something.

* * *

><p>"Carm…"<p>

Laura is truly a mystery to you. You think that it may be why you like her so much; the mystery that she is. She's so impulsive and spontaneous. You love it, quite honestly. It compliments your tendency to overthink any move you make and to never act without a plan. She seems to make you better. She makes you a person that you're finally happy to be. It's not that you couldn't because you know that you could make it on your own, but you'd never want to. You love being with her.

You love her.

Back to the mystery thing, though. She's weird. You guys are watching Friends right now and you just laughed at Monica plotting against her new maid because she thinks that she stole her things, but now Laura is crying at your side.

"Laura, what's wrong?"

"It's just that…" She sniffles and turns towards you completely. "Carm, we're laughing at Monica doing all of those silly things...but I see why she did them. I totally get it. I would probably do the same things." She looks down and her lip jutts out enough for you to want to kiss her.

Well, you always want to kiss her now. You totaled a count of twenty-two kisses since she kissed you four days ago, which roughs out to about five a day. You haven't really talked about it, but with five kisses a day who really has time to talk?

"We're laughing at her right now, but that makes so much sense to her! She can't help it."

She's actually going to kill you one day because she is the most adorable thing on the face of this earth. She's in tears because she's worried that she's bullying a fictional character on a TV show that ended years ago.

"Carmilla, don't smile! I'm serious. She's just living life how she normally does, and we're sitting here making fun of her like she's a joke! I can see why she'd do it! Am I a joke, too?"

You don't mean it in an offensive way, but there is no way that Laura isn't PMSing right now. You know this because she always seems teary eyed and overly caring right before the crimson tide strikes and because you've started having cramps and you both always sync up.

"Cutie, you are not a joke. Calm down."

"Oh, yes, Carmilla," she tells you bitterly, "let me just calm down because you say so!" She lets out a long sob before she cries out again. "I don't want to be a joke."

You can't help but smile sweetly and move closer. You open your arms and she climbs into them. You press a small kiss to her sniffling nose. "You're not a joke, sunshine. Don't worry."

Ell reminds you of Laura nowadays. As you've grown, you've noticed that the few memories you have with Ell can parallel to ones you share with Laura easily. Your best friend is staring at you with beautiful bright eyes laced with honey strands of love and faith and you hope that you never see them dim to mud like Ell's did. Ell had bright eyes like her once, too, and her laugh was a stream of giggles that could've been Laura's raised a pitched. You don't know when it changed but when you remember Ell now, it's not Laura you're comparing to her but her to Laura and that comforts you. You're moving on.

It's been eight years and you're finally moving on.

It occurs to you that in the sense of moving on that you should really start addressing the thoughts that haunt you. You do try to brush them off.

You don't need stitches to be loved, do you? You've had them before. She didn't mind you then, she wouldn't mind you now, right? You wonder if her minding would be for the better or worse. You really wish that you didn't think like this. You don't want stitches. You don't want to hurt yourself. You don't want to think this way.

You can't always get what you want.

Of course you want to get it, though. You want your way. You want to snap your fingers and the world to revolve around you. Your mother is right. You only think of yourself.

Your friends do enjoy you. Laura does love you. Perry and LaF do actually like your group activities. When you spend time with them, they do actually want to be there with you. They care about you. There's nothing forcing them to talk to you or be friends with you, but you don't know why that doesn't stop them. You don't deserve them. They're far too good for you and you probably take them for granted. You take everything for granted.

Your mind bounces back to the thought of stitches and your skin itches. You scratch a bit at it but it only burns now and you want to get it off; you want the pain to surface. You want the burning to burst through your skin and to relieve you of the tension your body holds. You don't want it. You need it.

You don't need it, though. You want it.

You always need to get what you want. That's your nature. That's how you think.

You're a disgrace. You don't deserve Laura. You don't deserve Will. You don't deserve the air that you breathe.

You're not entirely sure that you want the air that you breathe anymore.

* * *

><p>On a Saturday night, Carmilla reveals to you that she thinks about death a lot and it ironically makes your heart skip. You kiss her softly because since that first kiss you guys do it a lot, but after you pull away she has tears in her eyes.<p>

"Laura, I'm scared."

For someone so fearless, you've seen her scared a lot lately. You want to help. You don't really know how, but you really want to, so you ask how to help and she shakes her head.

"Oh, Laura..." You feel her fingertips brush your cheek. "My sweet, sweet Laura." She smiles at you and you don't like the smile that it is. It's small, almost reminiscent. It makes you frown because you know that smile. You saw it on your mom when she began her turmoil, you saw it on your dad when he used to leave for odd hours at the firehouse, you see it on your grandparents when they're able to visit you only once or twice each year as you both grow. It's a smile meant to accompany goodbyes. You're not saying goodbye to Carmilla, though. You don't even really feel like you've really said hello. You guys haven't even discussed what to do about this feelings situation and stuff since the first kiss. You can't say goodbye to her.

You lean up and give her a tiny kiss. Her smile shifts lighters and so you kiss her again and again. They're tiny and excited and her smile is changing with each one so you just give her more.

You could kiss Carmilla for hours. You could write memoirs on how soft her lips are against yours. You use the word memoirs when you think about kissing Carmilla and you think that explains what love is; Memoirs and kisses and pretty girls that make you smile.

"It'll be alright, Carm," you tell her. You think of all she tells Will when he's upset. You think of how strong she is and how strong she always has to be for everyone. "You don't have to be happy."

She tries to shake her head and you can see the struggle in her eyes. She looks so scared. "Yes, I do, Laura. I can't let Will see me like that. He looks up to me. I'm supposed to set an example. I've already fucked him up enough."

You try to tell her that she hasn't messed him up. She's done the best that she could. Will is not her responsibility.

"Yes, he is. Laura, last weekend I felt so...dead. I just laid in bed. I told him I was sick. I didn't want to get up." Carmilla's eyes are starting to water and her voice is getting smaller. "I just...I wanted to stay in bed forever. I didn't take him to the museum like I promised because I was lazy. He's missing out. He's couldn't even go to the museum because I was too lazy to take him and he can't go alone. He's just a kid."

Carmilla face is filled with fear and innocence. She's very pale and sad and she looks like those dolls that your mom wouldn't let you buy for three hundred dollars in antique shops even though you begged and begged her for them. It never really occurs to you that she's only like five months older than you. You are both only fifteen years old right now. You're not going to be adults for years. You should be worrying about school and friends and dances, not ruining the lives of children that you shouldn't be responsible for. You should be worried about getting your licenses next year or the fact that colleges are _already_ sending you mail, not crying over the weight of responsibilities you shouldn't have.

You think that the worst part of it all is that Carmilla looks so untouched when she cries that it's almost tragically beautiful. She's almost tragically beautiful. You wish that the tragedy wasn't mixed into it all.

"Carmilla, you're just a kid."

She cries harder now because she doesn't believe it. She doesn't get to acknowledge it anymore. You don't like seeing her like this. You need to tell someone. You need an adult.

"It's alright that you're scared, Carm." You kiss from her forehead to her nose and her cries dim to a sniffle. "I can be brave enough for the both of us for a little bit."

* * *

><p>You are diagnosed at fifteen with manic depression, panic disorder, anxiety, and insomnia. Laura tells your school guidance counselor that you struggle with your thoughts and they call a therapist from a nearby hospital to assess you. Within weeks, they load you up on prescriptions and your mother spits on the ground in front to you when she tells you of your lack of worth. She throws your bag from the pharmacy on the ground and it rattles and cries.<p>

You wish to rattle and cry.

She's angry with you for keeping her home. They called her from the airport to rush to the school for you and she's been forced with you since.

"I won't be able to work until tomorrow, Carmilla," she tells you now. "That's a month stuck here dealing with you. Do you have no care of others? Is it too much to ask you to disregard yourself and to spare the dramatics until I am not planned to be boarding a plane? Why can't you control yourself?"

You ask yourself that question a lot; Why can't you control yourself? Why can't you stop these thoughts? What's wrong with you?

"You disgust me."

You don't really realize that you're crying until you watch a box of tissues get tossed your way. You reach to pick them up but you flinch back because she steps towards you.

"I want you cleaned up by tonight when your brother gets home from his little friend's house. I'm leaving in an hour. I can't even stand to be held here by your lack of control. If an incident like this happens again, don't think that I won't struggle to send you off to live in a hospital where they'll have the proper care for you."

You don't want to go to the hospital. You can't go. "But what would happen to Will? He can't make it on his own."

"I'll have to find somewhere to send him as well. Let's hope it's not a boys' home because you're incapable of doing the little I ask of you, Carmilla."

Your breathing is starting to shallow at the thought of Will in a boys' home. He couldn't make it there. They wouldn't know that he rehearses piano at four fifteen every day or that he doesn't like white milk, only chocolate. They wouldn't know that in order to sleep, you have to kiss his right temple to give him good dreams and any other place doesn't work. He doesn't know that you still kiss the top of his head when he's asleep, but you do and if you didn't then his bad dreams would come back. It's common sense. They also wouldn't know that he doesn't even want a bar mitzvah. He doesn't want to have a party at all. You're planning on a trip to a symphony that he's been talking about for weeks. They might not even celebrate his birthday.

"Get presentable." Your mother kicks the box into your feet before she leaves the room.

You're shaking really badly and you realize it after you take out your phone to text Laura. She called you this morning to check up on you and make sure that you took your meds and so her contact is already open. You've been forgetting to a lot.

Well, you say that you forget a lot. Sometimes you just don't like the feeling accompanying taking pills to function in everyday life.

You start to calm down just thinking about her. That's not really healthy but it's what you're clinging to. You shouldn't cling to Laura. She won't always be there for you. You need to remind yourself that you won't always have her by your side but you really hope for it.

You're pretty positive that you're in love with her. She's who you think about before you sleep and when you wake up. She's the colors in your rainbow and when you drink tea, you think about her favorite flavors and where and when you need to buy more of them so that you're always stocked up. You want to spend every day with her, granted occasional breaks because you can't spend every waking moment together, but still. You want most of your time to be with her. You even want to date her, you think. Just the idea of Laura as your girlfriend completely wiped your mind of any negative thoughts that you fight.

It isn't healthy.

This isn't healthy.

You can't ask her out. You can't form this mess. You can't drag her down with you. You love her too much for that. You love her too much to give her that burden. She's too good for you.

You can't ask her out.

You won't ask her out.

For once in your life you need to control your selfish urges. You won't do it. You can control yourself. You need to control yourself.


End file.
